The Ambassadors
by Lushard
Summary: A great battle is going to take place in Midgard. The Morrocian Rebels have already started a war with the royal army of Prontera. Now the Order of Juno has to make its own move. Featuring 3rd Job Classes and receiving OCs. {UNDER REVISION}
1. The Selected Three

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

**_March 2013 : _**_I am currently revising this fanfiction for a better read. Please look out for minor changes as well._

_Revised chapters are going to look like this one._

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**- Chapter ****1 -**

**The Selected Three**

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The streets of Juno had always been quieter than any other cities arround for it was the home of the independent Order of Juno, a chivalric order ran by the Junoan Church.

Eversince the time of the Great War twelve years ago, the Order had always been the one who stepped into action to defend the Northren Lands. Starting as warriors under the Junoan Church, their role on defending Juno from invasion during the War had expanded greatly through every battle they had won. So, instead of being disbanded after a treaty with the Kingdom of Midgard had been signed, they were appointed as Juno's official protectors.

The city itself, on the other hand, had always been renowned for its history and grand architectures. Located in the air above El Mes Plateau, the floating city contained the Heart of Ymir, a magical item that had sparked the Great War and awakened dark ambitions. Of course, none of those power-hungry souls had succeeded, thanks to the efforts of the Northen Soldiers.

'Pay attention to your guide or purchase a map,' was what adventurers were likely to hear upon their entrance. Well, it was for anyone's own good, really. Anyone who didn't wish to get lost, or worse, falling from the edges, to be precise. The streets of Juno could seem complicated, and it took more than a week to remember all the routes that connected one place to another. And being the capital city of the Republic, you would also never know if you had trespassed into some restricted area.

For instance, Merhants and Smiths were gathered in a district called 'The Nest', the most crowded district to be found in the city. The Nest was located in the southeast of the city, and was connected to the residental area by narrow streets and bridges. Many adventurers who ventured north always made their stay there for the cheapest inns and taverns that could be found scattered in the area. And since Juno was famous for its advanced technology and magic institute, there was no need to worry for the city to run out of income, for there were always some people who would venture North only to see its magnificent buildings and great exterior.

To the northen section of the city, a huge cathedral stood admirablely. As a novice could have guessed, it was the very headquarter of the Order of Juno, a place where the Junoan Knights and Crusaders lived. There were some divisions that extinguished one fraction from the others. The Knights were in the Vanguards; the Crusaders were in the Guardians. As it had been made known, the two main fractions were led by high-ranked warriors who were the elites of their ranks: the Rune Knights and the Royal Guards. Each fraction had seven heads, and they were elected by the Church itself. Now, we knew them as The Fourteen. 'Greatly known throughout the lands; admired by people; feared by its enemies,' was Junoan children's chants.

It was a pleasent winter morning when those great warriors were gathered in the meeting hall of The Fourteen.

Located on the third floor of the grand cathedral, the sumptuous room was a place where only high-ranked officers could enter. The dim sunlight entered through the rich decorated windows, lighting the room where two C-shaped tables were facing each other. Seven Rune Knights and seven Royal Guards were seated, with one transcendent warrior standing behind each person, acting more like an assistant rather than their second-in-command.

"The Prontera has sent us its envoys last week," said one of the Rune Knights. The man was on his early thirties by apperance. His brown eyes were narrowed although his expression remained unchanged: calm and guarded. The Rune Knight's robe he wore was the very same colour of his short hair: indigo. "It seems that they want us to help with the South," continued he.

"I don't believe they are seeking _our _help already," one of the Royal Guards sighed. He was easily the biggest and bulkiest man in the room, and with a long scar that ran from his temple across his left cheek, the giant looked more terrifying than ever. "Ephron, have you asked the details from the envoys?"

The indigo-haired Rune Knight nodded firmly. "I have, Gilliard. It seems that the Morrocians were tougher than they thought. And with the people of Comodo and Alberta as their allies, they are clearly an army you don't want to underastimate."

"Have the Fathers and the Senate heard about this?" asked a female Royal Guard with a ponytail.

"They have," Ephron replied. "They are willing to help the Pronteran army for the sake of the peace we have achieved here in the North. With Feyon and Izlude nearby, Prontera should not worry over their position. But _if _Feyon is taken..."

Ephron didn't have to finish his sentence. Everyone knew that Feyon was the closest town to Alberta, and since Alberta had already fallen into the hands of the Morrocian rebels, there was a great chance that they would quickly move to seize the town to further strengthen their position against Izlude and Prontera. The home of the hunters had been under the King's protection for generations, and the dwellers had proven themselves to be Prontera's strongest ally so far.

"Catriel, you've been there once, in Feyon," stated the oldest looking man in the ranks of the Royal Guards.

A dark haired young woman whom the veteran Royal Guard adressed as Catriel nodded. "Yes, that is true. I was under Lord Olaf when I inspected South," she said, hinting at a certain retired Rune Knight. As a military organization, The Fourteen had an age-limit. Personeel who was over the age of forty should retire from the position and enter the circle of Senate instead, then a Lord Knight or a Paladin shall be elected to take his or her place in the Circle.

"Feyon is the very home of the hunters, before another hunter guild was formed in Hugel," Catriel said. "The town also serves as Prontera's nearest supply base in times of war, and the city itself is guarded by nature."

Catriel spotted some raised eyebrows coming from the ones who hadn't been there and carried on with her speech. "Feyon was located between rows of hills and mountains. Any army advancing towards the city would be completely lost in the woods, not to mention being spotted right away by the expert marksmen. I have met their trappers during the inspection and I know they are the elites of their proffesion."

"But it would be wise not to underastimate the manpower of the rebels," said the older man. He then gave a glance to a female Royal Guard who sat beside him. The younger elite guard nodded in approval.

"Without any intention to brag," she began, "but in this room, I am the one who's the most experienced in handling the deadly blades of those Morrocian assassins. And without a doubt, they are all proffesional killers." She paused and looked at Ephron, silently waiting for his permission to speak further.

Ephron gave the young Royal Guard a sign to continue. "Let's hear more from Irine."

A nod. "From what I know, they are led by eight high-ranked assassins called Guillotine Cross, an even higher rank from that of Assassin of the Cross," Irine supplied the curious ears. "They are advanced in poison-making and well armed in hidden weapons, certainly not the kind of opponents we want to face in the dark. And furthermore, with Comodo to support them, we can conclude that the Rogue Guild is playing behind their success over Alberta," she added.

The whole room fell into an unsettling silence by the time Irine had stopped talking. For a minute, the only sound that could be heard was some creaking noises from the armors of nervous Lord Knights and Paladins who stood behind The Fourteen. The Junoans never really got many chances to venture South further than the border of Mt. Mjolnir. And as a result, many of them were unfamiliar with the Southern people. But the story of the these assassins and rogues were often spoken by the adventurers who happened to stay in the floating city, and though many had not met them in person, they at least could be certain that these killers were as fearsome as their reputation boasted of them.

"Feyon will be lost if _we_ don't act fast," Gilliard finally said, relaxing his stiff shoulders wit a roll. His green eyes swept over the room and shrugged, breaking the intimidating exterior of his psyche. "I'm just bringing the facts here."

Catriel gave a slight nod of agreement. "True. If Feyon is taken, surely Izlude and Prontera will be endangered. And before long, their last defence, Al de Baran, too will crumble." She paused to let the fact sink in. It meant that Juno would be left open.

There was a silence before Ephron cleared his throat and raised his gloved hand. "I vote for their aid. We don't have much of a choice here, I'm afraid."

Catriel and Gilliard raised their hands before the others mimicked their action. Ephron looked arround him and dropped his hand when he spotted no objections. He said, "It's settled then. We will move to Prontera's aid."

"Then, who will be sent? Remember, only two Rune Knights and one Royal Guard are allowed to be sent as a reinforcement for an allied kingdom in times of war," Gilliard stated carefully.

Ephron chuckled. "Don't worry, Gilliard. I know our Order's rules just fine. Before we carry on, is there anyone who wants to volunteer?"

Irine was the first to raise her hand. "I'll do it. I'm familiar with the assassins and it should prove to be useful in the upcoming battle."

Ephron nodded and wrote her name down on a sheet of paper. "Is there anyone else who'd like to volunteer?"

Another hand was raised. This time, it was a young Rune Knight who did. "I am familiar with the high ranked officers in the royal army of Prontera, and I've been in the capital twice on some missions. I believe that will prove to be useful."

Ephron wrote the name 'Remus' below 'Irine'. "And as for the last," he said before another hand was raised, "I want it to be a person whose skills in negotiations and battle strategies are adequate to support their cause since these two have already served the muscles required."

The Fourteen couldn't help but laugh while Remus and Irine smiled at Ephron's remark. Ephron'gaze swept over the room to add one more name to the list, and when he met a pair of dark, scarlet eyes, he smiled wryly. "Catriel," he stated, blowing the laughter away. "I vote for her."

As The Fourteen and their guardians looked at her, Catriel blinked for a few seconds before she finally bowed her head in a gracious way only a matured knightress could possess. A Rune Knight's habit, if not charm. Well, she didn't have any other choice to begin with anyway. So, with a soft voice, she finally said, "It will be an honor."

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**A/N : **_Warp Portal, Teleport skill, and Kafra's Teleport Service DO NOT EXIST in this fiction. Yes, it means every character has to travel on foot or mounts. __Resurrection of the dead is also out of the story, by the way._

_Sorry for the long banlist, but I want the war here to be 'fair'. I don't want to make other guild jumps at another with Warp Portal and such, you see._


	2. Before the Wind Blows South

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

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**- Chapter 2 -**

**Before the Wind Blows South**

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"My Lady, is there anything I can help you with?" asked a young Lord Knight who had kept Catriel company at the meeting. The young man's brown hair was cut short, and his amber eyes were observing his commander's face carefully. The two were now walking in the hallway of the second floor, making their way in haste to Catriel's office located at the far back of the floor. Some knights on patrol bowed their heads in respect when they walked past them.

"The usual thing, Gizelle," Catriel replied without looking at him, her expression remained unreadable. Her jet-black hair swayed by the wind as she walked. Without decreasing her speed, she dismissed her armor into silver fog with rune magic, leaving only her Rune Knight's robe. A Rune Knight's speciality had always been their rune magic, no?

"Inform the squad to get ready since we will leave by tomorrow's dawn. Irine's squad will handle the preparation for our supplies, so you could just check on her." The two arrived to Catriel's door office and stopped. "I will get my report ready in an hour. Please come back by then to collect it."

Gizelle bowed his head before turning back to the barrack. Catriel watched her right-hand man as he went and quickly entered her room after he dissapeared from her view. After the door was shut, she leaned against it and exhaled deeply.

She knew this was hoing to happen, but not this fast.

She had expected Prontera to send its envoys and she too had already guessed what their decision would be. But then again, not _this _fast.

With her thoughts elsewhere, she walked to her desk and grabbed some papers, searching for a specific document about those Morrocian rebels. While seating herself on her chair, her scarlet eyes examined the documents one by one. But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on those papers, her mind refused to tag along.

_Assassins_, she thought bitterly. She never imagined she would encounter them so soon after all those years back in the South. The very name of their profession was a like toxin; a candle igniting a burning hatred in her chest.

She let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. No. It was not like her to be stressed out by a mission. At all. But she couldn't help it. If her past was something that she was going to deal with in this mission, then first she should steady her heart. _Relax_, she told herself. _Try not to think._

She opened her eyes and glanced throughout the her office. Although it was not too large in size, the round room was filled with book shelves attached on its wall, making the rich decorated room looked more like a private library rather than an office. There were two doors on the room, the front door that led to the hallway, and the back door which would lead to a private balcony. If anything, it was like a small heaven for her. At least the Church was kind enough to give her a place to feel the refreshing air outside. Because without it, she would feel like a rat imprisoned in her office with reports and papers to work on.

From the mingled of orange and yellow streaming through her windows, the sun was already setting. The meeting, it seemed, had consumed less time than she'd predicted. Catriel stifled a yawn. It was at time like these she could really feel at ease.

But the peace did not last long; she was quite startled when someone knocked on her door.

"Catriel, it's me," a familiar masculine voice rang from the hallway, followed by another knock.

She quickly shook her head to brush away any lingering thoughts about the Assassins and got up to open the door. When she saw Ephron standing in front of her, she blinked and stepped back to let him in. "Why, this is a surprise," she said.  
"Is there something I can do for you?"

Eprhon looked at her for a few seconds before he sighed. "I am sorry," he said with an apologetic look.

Catriel blinked before her expression darkened. She cast her gaze downward on purpose. "You don't have to."

"I wish I could go there myself. But—"

"Duty above all else," Catriel cut in, still not attempting to make an eye contact with Ephron.

He did not reply, instead, he was staring mutely at her with eyes full of concern. Catriel knew what troubled him and looked away. "Stop treating me like a child." Her tone was sharpening, close to accusing but not quite. She was now clearly annoyed by looks. "You can't think of me as a subordinate forever. I am in the same rank as you now."

"But dealing with Assassins—"

Again, Ephron didn't get to finish his sentence. Catriel turned around and shot him a cold glare, warning the older Rune Knight not to bring the matter up or she would definitely summon her runic blade. And of course, with one side threatening his neck. After a few minutes, he seemed to have realized that she was giving him her usual silent treatment. He nodded in defeat.

As far as he knew, Catriel would always do this when things didn't go the way she wanted. She too had rarely let her anger taken over her tone or looks, let alone shouting. And as a result, she made one of The Fourteen's greatest negotiators and strategists, which was, ironically, the very reason he'd voted for her to be sent her along with Remus and Irine.

"Allright, I apologize if you are offended in any way," Ephron muttered weakly as he opened the door to leave, but then turned to her before stepping out. "I was just worried about you."

Ephron had been some sort of a big brother figure for Catriel ever since she was under his command as a Lord Knight. Without a doubt, the older rune knight had cared for her greatly in return. But...

She was thankful for his affection, but she did not have to always be appreciative of it. Especially if he went overboard.

Upon hearing those words, Catriel's gaze softened quite a bit but she refused to let her anger go just like that. She never liked being treated like a weakling, especially by this man. "You know you should worry about other people more than your ex-second-in-command."

Ephron gave her a look as she pushed him gently out of the room. He didn't struggle, though. And before he could utter another complaint, Catriel gave him her rare, sincere smile and said softly, "Thank you."

And the door was slammed shut.

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- x - V - x -

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If Rune Knights were allowed to swear, Remus would have done it by the time those damned papers fell on his desk like a waterfall.

It was at a time like this that he would wonder how the other Rune Knights in the Circle of The Fourteen could maintain their placid exterior over their distressed, if nor overused, brains. They still had other works to be done, for heaven's sake!

Remus gave a mountain of papers on his desk a quick, sinister, gaze before leaning against his chair and sighed tiredly. He never really understood why people like Catriel and Ephron could handle more papers and finish all of them in such a short amount of time. Well, Ephron maybe had just used being surrounded by documents and reports waiting to be scanned and marked one by one, but Catriel... It had not been long before her baptism as a Rune Knight, and she already had achieved the highest rank in the Vanguard.

He brushed off some of his light brown hair which covered his forehead and gazed at the ceiling for the longest time. His green eyes were unblinking before a knock on his door made him jump out of his chair.

"May I please come in?" a familiar female voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

Remus quickly opened the door and raised his eyebrows at the presence of the guest. It was Irine. Remus let her in and closed it before relizing that she was still in her Royal Guard armor. Of course, only Rune Knights could dismiss and summon his or her armor with rune magic, and perhaps for the first time eversince his baptism, he realized just how handy it was. It must be tiring to walk around with steel and chains enveloping your body.

"I've kindly brought you these," she said as she held up her hand, which was holding improtant looking papers. Her smile could never be more mischevious.

Remus winced. "Then you are being _too_ kind here, young lady." He waved his hand at his desk. "I think I have enough stock to last for a lifetime."

"Messy as always," she chuckled, adding the papers onto the top of the 'mountain'.

"I prefer handling the supplies out there rather than being stucked here in my office with papers bombarding my desk."

"Hey, it's not all running around out there too, you know. I have to calculate everything and scanned some papers and all."

Remus snorted. "At least it gives me something else to do. Well, enough about it, I'm sick just by looking at those damnable piles of paperworks, eating almost two third space of my desk. What do you think, about this mission, I mean."

Irine examined Remus' expression carefully before sighing. "Let Ephron hear that coming out from his fellow Rune Knight and he'd strip you off of your armor." Irine shrugged. "I have a feeling this mission will turn to be something really big."

"I share the same feeling then." Remus leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest. Some papers fell onto the floor when he did so, but he didn't give a damn.

"I wonder if the hunters could manage to hold their defences all right," Irine said, frowning.

"They are not weak, y'know. But really, for Alberta to just fall like that... I'm sure the officers in Prontera are in a panic right now."

"I don't doubt it," she agreed. "Alberta is a the only city which provides the knigdom with sea route other than Izlude, not to mention that most of their supplies are handled by their merchants."

Before they could discuss more, another knock was interrupting their little talk. Remus quickly walked across the room and opened the door to see... Gilliard standing in front of his office.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," the older Royal Guard shrugged, "but since I accidently did it anyway can I join the discussion as well?"

Remus and Irine nodded and let him in. Once again, Remus had to be reminded that the veteran Royal Guard was almost two heads taller than him, forcing Remus to back off to give the giant more space. It was very thoughtful of the cathedral interior designer to make every door in the building twice Gilliard's size. Maybe they really had considered about some big muscle builders with bulky armors to be in their recruit after all. That imagination didn't fail them.

"So, I guess it shall depend on you three, eh?"

Irine shifted uncomfortably. "This is the biggest mission I've ever received," she muttered.

"But I trust you three can do it well," Gilliard said, smiling broadly. "All you three have to do is come to Prontera and do what you think is best. It's not like you'll be sent off to war immediately. Maybe passing along some carriages..."

"Don't be such a killjoy," Remus retorted. "I'm not going there just to be their their lapdog."

"Well, but such is thy task," Gilliard replied, fully grinning now.

Remus sighed when he remembered that he had to face King Tristan and his subjects. _Yeah... Formality, mannerism and all that stuff... _Catriel would surely give him a long, appropriate lecture about how to behave in front of the king—not to mention showering him with cold, piercing glares (which he undoubtedlly believed could kill an orc), if he managed to slack off.

"I doubt you will anyway," Gilliard added upon seing Remus' discouraged face. "I'm sure Catriel will handle almost all the talking and formal stuff. That's why Eprhon sent her along. To ensure that _you _don't mess things up."

Irine couldn't hold her laughter any longer although Remus was secretly relieved by Gilliard's remark. He knew he would have to tag along with Catriel since they were both Rune Knights (Irine would stick with the Guardian division to aid the Paladins there), and it was a good thing, since he knew the young knightress would handle all the boring stuff.

After a while, Irine had managed to stop looking amused. She then waved her mettalic-gloved hand and walked towards the door. "All right then, time to go back to work."

The two men nodded in reply, and after the door was shut, Remus turned to Gilliard, one eyebrow raised. "So, what business do you have with me?" he asked, realizing that the Royal Guard should have his reasons for seing him.

Gilliard's smile broadened into a mischievous one. He then held out another stack of papers and put them down on Remus' desk.

Remus rolled his eyes before muttering, "Oh, God," then burried his face in one hand.


	3. The Arrival

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

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**- Chapter 3 -**

**The Arrival**

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"I'm going to die."

"You're not."

"I can't take it anymore."

"You can."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Why wouldn't I when I'm in the same ship as you?"

At that, Irine gave up and chose to be silent.

She knew she wouldn't be able to reason with Catriel. The ever elegant Rune Knigtress had been replying her statements without even looking up from the papers in her hands. And besides, what options did she have here, in a floating zeppelin? Jumping out of the window with her gryphone sounded nice although she knew she would be dead by Catriel's hands the moment they hit the ground. Walking around to ease her mind was out of the question too since she could barely move an inch without having her head spinning like crazy.

The two ladies were in the longue of Junoan zeppelin, spending their free time until the ship reached its destination, Izlude. Some Lord Knights and Paladins were chatting at nearby tables while the soldiers were tending their mounts or simply relaxing outside. Their table, however, was completely silent. Catriel was reading some reports she had been given while Irine was either chanting a prayer or muttering some curse to zeppelin inventors in a low voice. It was rather an amusing sight, actually. But since none of their subordinates dare to disturb their commanders, the two were being practically ignored.

Looking at her companion's pale face, Catriel let out a small chuckle, slightly amused by the fact that the Royal Guard couldn't handle flights. "I'm amazed you can fight on your gryphone witout suffering from a jetlag," she said, shooking her head.

Irine managed to glance at Catriel and cried, "It's different!" before completely flattened with the table.

Seeing the two, Remus, who had been watching them from a nearby table, couldn't choose a better timing to join the ladies. He pulled out a nearby chair and sat down beside Irine, grinning. "Is she really the same Irine from the Fourteen that I knew—the one capable of smashing things right and left on her gryphone with just a single spear?"

Irine snorted. She muttered something about everything would be better if she was allowed to fly with her gryphone all the way to Izlude herself.

Remus laughed upon hearing that. "So now you prefer to mount your gryphone, eh? Catriel, maybe we should just throw her off the ship with her mount."

Catriel shrugged. Her eyes didn't even lift from the papers. "Maybe so. But then again, it would take days for her to catch up with us."

And before Remus could utter any joke, Catriel cut him in by saying, "You better stop teasing her or I can guarantee that you'd be dead meat by the time we land."

The statement was followed by a slight affirmative nod from Irine—with her head still glued to the table—making Remus' grin faded quickly after that. "I was just joking," he said with a shrug. And what he hadn't added was,_ Do you know how funny it is to see a Royal Guard suffering so much from jetlag when she has the muscles and strength to destroy a batallion all by herself?_

Catriel, now had finally freed herself from the reports, stood up and asked for a glass of water to the bartender. "Try not to knock yourself out," she said to Irine while putting down the glass of water on the table.

Irine didn't look up, but she raised a thumb at Catriel before reaching weakly to the glass. The Rune Knightress then walked off the table, heading towards the staircase located at the end of the room. Remus glanced at the unmoving Irine and tapped her on the shoulder before getting up from his seat as well.

The two walked past the corridor in silence. Catriel was her usual self; silent, and unpredictable. Remus never really had a normal conversation with the Rune Knightress before, but he chose to tag along with her rather than being left with the half-dead Irine in the bar. Well, he wasn't really in the mood to have a casual talk with his subordinates either since his mind was in the state of confusion. This mission seemed to be bigger than any other missions he had received in the past, after all.

A strong gust of wind immediately attacked them after Catriel opened the door. Remus winced, one hand automatically moving to shield his face. He had already forgotten how strong the wind was up here since it had been some months since he boarded an airship. Catriel, on the other hand, looked more relaxed than she usually was. Her her face still didn't shown much of an expression, though.

"I never knew you like it here," said Remus, trying not to shout amidst the blowing wind.

"No wonder," she replied, shrugging. "This is the first time we board an airship together."

Remus glanced at the vast sky before them. The sky was impossibly blue, certainly the weather was lacking the dramatics he'd expected for a journey to enter a war. "I guess so. And this is the mission I never imagined I would take a part in. To be honest, I stil can't believe we'll be going out on a war this soon."

Catriel eyed her fellow Rune Knight in a measured gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be excited?" Her tone was sharp, Remus noted.

"Heh... I guess I am a bit excited to kick some ass. But... there is a part of me that's not. It's as if... I'm both confused _and_ scared."

"It _is _a war. If you are merely overexcited just to be able to play hero, then I'll ask Ephron to strip you off your armor myself," she remarked.

Remus held his breath. He knew Catriel was not the type to joke around and her bleak expression was enough to tell him that she was dead serious. "I'll try not to mess arround. But mind you, I have my own way of doing things."

A shrug. "I don't mind. As long as you don't screw things up." And the next thing that happened almost knocked Remus off his balance. A smile curled on both side of the Rune Knightress' lips. It was not a sardonic smile, nor a threatening one. It was a simple, pure smile, that greatly brightened her looks out of her character.

"I'm glad you still have some sense in your head," said she.

Remus shrugged too, grinning. "And I never thought someone like you would be capable of praising a guy like me."

Before the two had the chance to continue their little talk, a young Lord Knight, Gizelle, if Remus' memory hadn't failed him, came. He gave a head bow to the superrior knights and nodded upon Catriel's raised eyebrows.

"We have arrived."

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

As soon as the ship had landed, the Junoan soldiers began to form in three lines. Directed by those who held higher ranks, Knights and Crusaders began to move onward.

Mounting their respectful mounts, the Ambassadors led the Junoan army into the capital of Rune Midgard, Prontera. People started to form a crowd as the massive army entered from the South gate, but quickly moved aside to give them a clear path.

The welcome was not filled with cry of joy nor shouts. Instead, they simply showered the Junoans with blank stares, measuring them with wary, suspicious eyes. It was to be expected though, since it had not been so long ago that they were at each other's throat. The old ones, Irine noted, were regarding them coldly. Old wounds seem to never heal.

The younger people and children were the exact opposite, though: their wide eyes were showing naked admiration and their jaws were hanging low. Irine hid a smile at that. Junoan Knights and Crusaders were famous for their prowess and elegance, pretty much shown by their leaders. Their movement did not only show their fierce training and dicipline, but also pride and devotion any army could never match.

And as a plus, the citizens of Prontera had rarely seen these so-called Northern people, more so in a large group all at once. Having them walking proudly in the middle of Pronteran street was something they had never even dreamed of seeing. It was as if they were a bunch of—

"Aliens."

Remus' low voice was barely a whisper to Irine's ears. She made sure that Catriel, who was mounting her black dragon ahead—not a land dragon Ferus, since the Junoan Rune Knights distinguished themselves from any other Rune Knight squads by mounting Northern _winged_ dragons—did not hear (or maybe she just didn't bother to hear) Remus' disgusted comment.

"What did you say?" she asked without turning her head to face her comrade.

"Aliens," Remus grunted irritably. "They're staring at us as if we're some kind of cannibalistic aliens."

No matter how much Irine tried to calm herself, Remus' comment did hit the spot. She shifted uncomfortably on her gryphone and glanced down at the Pronterans—which she immediately regretted soon after. Most of the stares she received were cold and piercing. Some of knights looked at her majestic gryphone with either envy or hatred that wasn't concealed at all. And while most of the youngsters looked at her with awe, while some others simply maintain a blank expression, either expecting her to jump at her or...

Irine mentally slapped herself. She should not be so distracted over a small matter. Juno and the Kingdom of Rune Midgard had never really been in good terms with one another. After the last Great War, it can be said that the two nations were trying to surpass one another, whether it was in the field of technology or military strength.

It was true however, that a reconciliation had been made between the two eleven years ago, marking the end of the cold war. But scars of war could never be forgotten so easily. Just the thought of walking right in the enemy territory made her heart beat faster. And the fact that she was bringing an army didn't help at all.

In any case, the treatment these people was giving her should have been expected. At least they did not start screaming insults or throwing stones, right?

"I don't like this. Not even a bit." Remus' comment brought her back to reality.

Irine tried to look as normal as she could, preventing herself from making the same irritated expression Remus had clearly shown after they stepped into the city. She whispered back with her teeth clenched tightly. "You think I do? If this was not an _important mission_ I would've never volunteered in the first place."

Remus snorted instead of replying. It seemed that he knew the meaning of Irine's remark. _Let the war break loose, and our home would be their target next_. It was either to help Rune Midgard to settle things, or let the rebels take the throne. It didn't take an expert to tell that the rebels they were dealing with were no amateurs. They were Morrocian trained Rogues and Assassins; the ones who always lurked in the shadows and lived by their own rules. So to cut things short, they didn't really have a choice.

After they had arrived at the Northen part of Prontera (which was, much to Irine's relief, a restricted sector for the kingdom officials with no commoners allowed), the Junoans halted their march. Some Pronteran knights and their commander were already stationed there, serving as a welcome party. Catriel, who was leading the Ambassadors and their forces, dismounted from her dragon. Irine and Remus quickly dismounted their respective mounts, followed by their soldiers.

The Pronteran commander, a tall, middle-aged Royal Guard with auburn hair raised his Holy Avenger. The welcome party quickly separated into two lines and opened a path to the palace, leaving their commander and two paladins in the middle of the road to welcome the Ambassadors personally.

Catriel walked towards the three with Irine and Remus on both on her sides. Gizelle, and two other guards quickly stationed themselves behind their commanders. The middle-aged royal guard also dismounted from his gryphone, followed by the two Paladins standing behind him, and they exchanged bows before greeting one another.

"It is truly a pleasure to see you all have arrived safe and sound," the commander greeted them formally with a deep head bow. "On behalf of King Tristan, allow me to introduce myself. I am the commander of the Fifth Cavalry, Douglas Harrison. I shall be your escort for the time being."

Catriel returned the head bow with such elegance that Irine swore she could see Douglas Harrison and his guards flinched the moment she dipped her head low. She tried not to roll her eyes. _On a second thought, she _does _have the ability to make every man both charmed _and _reluctant to get near her with her overwhelming beauty and cold aura surrounding her, _Irine mused.

"The pleasure is all ours, fair sire," replied the Rune Knightress. "The name's Catriel Lachelle of the Fourteen, Ambassador of the Junoan Church. The two who accompany me also bear the title of the Ambassador."

Irine followed Catriel's example and gave a head bow. "Irine Millicent ."

"Remus Wardell." Remus mimicked his companions' action. Gizelle and the other two bowed after their commanders did.

Douglas Harrison nodded politely in return. He then turned arround to lead the way. "If you will," he swayed his hand to the direction where the palace stood. The three then beckoned the Pronterans into the palace.

Irine gave a mental note that they had entered the stage of a greater level of formality. Although Remus tried to look normal, she could easilly tell that the Rune Knight's jaw was stiffened in anxiety. But then again, it wasn't the time to worry about someone else. Even _she _had to clutch her fists tightly in order to reassure herself that this was just another part of her mission that was yet to come.

The only one who looked 'normal' was Catriel, whose figure didn't even show a slight hint of her being nervous whatsoever. Her personality aside, she was the most experienced between the three of them in dealing with royalty and formal negotiations. Seeing her calm and collected figure, it was no wonder that Ephron often tasked her with important negotiations and all the politic stuff.

How she wished she had the caliber...

They were going to meet a king here, for Odin's sake! A _king_! Irine may be a Royal Guard, and yes, she too had occasionally met some important figures on behalf of the Fourteen and her superriors, but it was different this time. She had been used to position herself in the place where her subordinate was, listening to whatever her superrior had to discuss with other lords. But now, she _was _the commander here! At least, _one_ of the three commanders representing Juno... But how could she hope to stop the cold sweat from running down her spine at a time like this?

Irine's anxiety increased the moment they stepped into the royal palace of Prontera. The rich decorated interior was radiating the aura of royalty which made her feel even bigger as the stationed guards gave them a head bow to honor the reinforcements from Juno. One wrong movement or a show of anxiety would be carried by memories for a lifetime.

At this point, it would seem that Remus and Irine's nervousness had reached a level where even Catriel could sense its fierceness radiating from those two. It was very kind of the black haired woman, who was walking right behind the Pronterans, to steal a glance over one shoulder, giving her companions a slight nod of reassurance. Her lips muttered some non-audible words which quickly send soothing relaxation to the two stiff figures walking behind her. (At her softened, sympathetic gaze, Irine could swear that they must've looked like mechanical maneqins rather than walking officers).

Irine closed her eyes for some seconds and tried to breathe normally. She could sense that Remus was doing the same thing.

At least they were together in this. With Catriel, notably. That fact was relaxing enough since she had just said, _"I'll handle the talking."_

But as soon as she eased her stiffened muscles, her mind quickly rang a bell of an explicit warning behind the Rune Knightress' words:

"_Just be silent and don't mess things up."_


	4. Calm Before the Storm

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 4 -**

**Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

It was nearly sunset the time the Junoan Ambassadors walked out the castle of Prontera. Mounted in their northern dragons, the army advanced south in order to aid Rune Midgard army in the upcoming battles. The talk with the king, however, had gone quite smoothly.

It had taken hours for the two forces to settle their differences in military warfare and war policies, but Catriel had brilliantly offered a simple—yet most acceptable—solution: Junoan war policies and strategies were to be invented if they were to be placed as rear guards, which in return, giving Rune Midgard the freedom to 'use' their strength however they wanted. Seing how speechless the King's spokeperson had gone in the meeting was enough for Remus and Irine to entrust all the talk to the knightress. She had replied their statements without any inclination of hesitation nor nervousness. Returning every objection in a very elegant and undebatable manner, it was without a doubt that Catriel's negotiation skills were in the same level as Ephron's himself.

"So I guess this is where we will separate our ways then," said Irine when they had finally reached the west gate.

Catriel and Remus nodded. "Be seing you," Remus said to Catriel. His tone was un-Remus-like: firm and curt.

The commander of Junoan Paladins laughed upon sensing her friend's rare, serious, attitude. "What, is the great Remus now feeling scared of bloodshed all of a sudden?" Irine said jokingly.

Remus lifted his shoulders heavily and snorted, practically ignoring Irine's playful taunt. "Hey, this isn't a game. We're betting on our lives out there."

"I know, I know," she replied, shooking her head sheepishly. Irine turned her gaze on Catriel, who had not spoken a word after they'd gotten out of the castle. She knew the Rune Knightress had a lot to think about—since it _was _her role to think through hard things she and Remus were not cut out to in the first place. Irine gave her a long stare before finally sighing. "After I finish the task on the borderside, I promise I'll be storming my way out to your place," she said to Catriel.

"Sograt is in your hands," replied Catriel, closing her eyes and bowing her head in respect. "We too shall do our best to defend Feyon. Just remember not to lose your head in the war."

Irine gave a bitter laugh at Catriel's words. She had never been one drop the formalities, even when talking to her colleagues. Irine suddenly felt like she hadn't known her at all. "I appreciate your concern, but hey—I got a full batallion of Paladins and Crusaders here. There's no way I would let them cut our thoats. But I am familiar with one truth: the infamous Sograt Desert has never been kind to outsiders."

Catriel and Remus exchanged a knowing glance for a momment and nodded. They knew it was the very operation base of those deadly Assassins and Rogues. The bad climate and intense wheather aside, it was already bad enough having a full regiment of shadow walkers trying to poison you in your sleep. Children or adults, male or female, the Assassins always killed any people listed in their assassination list without mercy nor hesitation. Or that was what the rumor had said about them. But anyone who was smart enough knew that rumors were not better be underestimated, for they contained some truth.

_Or maybe even the whole thing_, Irine thought after pondering for a while.

"Be sure to double check your supplies every now and then," Catriel warned the two as they walked past some Pronteran guards on duty. The curious glances of those guards that were mainly directed at Junoan commanders' mounts were ignored by Catriel who chose to be silent until they were out of the city. Northern winged dragons had always been a famous subject around people confined in the south.

"And don't forget to tighten your camp defenses," she added, "even when the sun's till up. You'll never know when their scouts have infiltrated your camp by 'borrowing' your subordinates' uniform."

"I've been there once," Irine replied with a stern tone. "I know how bad it is there. But I'll be fine—_we_ will be fine." She tried to lift the heavy atmosphere up with a cheery tone.

"You too, watch your back there in the woods," Remus said to Catriel while turning to his men. He gave a hand signal to the knights to form a formation to take the rear. After they had all begun moving, he turned back to his comrades and said to Catriel, "Your opponents are well armed. Remember that they are well supplied since Alberta is nearby."

"I will keep that in mind."

Having no other things to say, the three then exchanged a formal bow to one another, with their subordinates mimicking their action. "May the Lord be with you," said each every one of them in an orchestrated timing. The Pronteran knights and crusaders made their own gesture under the command of their generals.

After that, Remus and Irine quickly marched onward, followed by the Pronteran cavalry.

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

Catriel and her squardon watched the allied force went before the sun completely set to hide in the west. When the dusty layers of their footsteps had faded away, she gave a signal to Gizelle—her second-in-command—to move to her side. Expecting the Pronteran squad to come by, Catriel dismounted from her dragon, and so did all the men and women clad in Junoan armor.

In a predicted timing, a group of Priests and High Priests appeared at the west gate, followed by Knights who acted as their guards and supply carriers. The garments they wore were a variation of dark colors, each representing their squad. Walking on the front was a female Arch Bishop, who was supposed to be their commander by the King's message.

The Arch Bishop scanned the foreigners before them, spotted Catriel, and approached her. They gave a bow to each other. Two male Lord Knights—presumably the commander and the lt. gnereal of the sword wielders in her squad—gave a deep bow after her.

"It is nice meeting you, fair knightress," said the blonde Arch Bishop. Her tone was like a music to Catriel's sensitive ears; maybe a little influence from being kept in the seminary for years. Dressed in a purple uniform of their kin, the young woman must not be much older than her. Her blonde hair was tangled over her shoulders way to the waist, her skin was marblic and her blue eyes were kind and caring, greatly increasing her feminine side out of her priestly aura.

"I should be the one saying so," Catriel replied. Of course, there were some Arch Bishops—heads of the Church—in Juno as well. Their attitudes were all alike; polite and perfect in manner, symbolizing their obidience to their Maker in every word they chanted.

Catriel, although had constantly made contact with the church, was never very fond of Priests before. Her task was to raise her sword and charge towards the enemy. She was, like many other warriors, always grateful for their support during each campaign. But that was as far as she could bring herself to respect them. After all, their difference in delivering the Lord's judgement was way too different; hers was to take up arms against any imbeciles standing in their path, while theirs was to receive and heal everyone all the same.

And also, talking about Priests, she had encountered some Bishops on some occassions and knew that they held a greater responsibility than those of High Priests. The young blonde, then, must hid more than she showed.

"The name's Lisette Quenell. I am a servant to the Pronteran Church of Rune Midgard," the blonde woman said. "It is a pleasure to be working with you, Miss Catriel." A faint smile bloomed on her lips as soon as she addressed the knightress. "I have heard a lot about you."

"It seems you have, since you already knew my name."

Lisette nodded an affirmative nod. "Lord Douglas has told me about you and your partners," she said, hinting at a certain middle aged Royal Guard of the Fifth Cavalry who had welcomed the Junoans this noon. "It is truly a shame that our preparations took longer than expected that we couldn't pass the Lord's blessing to your partners before their march to the South."

Despite the sudden urge to re-mount her Dragon to be away from the Arch Bishop, Catriel allowed herself a little smile. They were going to be stuck together, possibly for a long time. It was not a wise decision to adhere to her personal distaste of Priests. In a less dry tone, Catriel said, "I believe your prayer shall reach their souls no matter far distance separates us."

The blonde Arch Bishop's smile widened. Her gaze softened into a more tender one. Catriel tried not to clench her fists in frustation. "It seems we can get along just well, Miss Catriel. It is really a soothing feeling to know that a woman of faith like thee shall be in charge of our squads to reach our brothers and sisters in Feyon."

"Then I return the very same words to you, sister."

After that, Catriel glanced at the warriors before her. Two great forces of Pronteran and Junoan knights and priests were standing proud before her sight, ready for battle. Determination could be found shining brightly in their eyes, initiating their burning will to defend their home from any who would take it from them. The sun's orange ray of light that was being reflected on their polished armours only made it looked more shining.

Of course, aside from their will, she could also sense some nervousness that was common to be found in any army before their march to battle. It _would _soon be a full-scale war, after all. Whether it was for faith or vengence, war would always result in either absolute death or a scarred victory.

_Those who die shall be honoured by titles they could never accept, while those who survive would lead a neverending journey until death tightens its grip, _Catriel thought. _It has always been like this... And if we happened to be the ones losing our lives..._

But, no. She had no time to think of losing the lives she had been entrusted with. The men and women before her were counting on her to lead them to _victory_—how could she possibly betray them by thinking of losing? The battle had yet to begin, she had no place for doubts. Not as long as she still had her legs to carry them home.

After exchanging looks to one another, Catriel and Lisette issued the order to move out at the same time. With one leap, she mounted her black dragon. She knew the longer they waited, the longer the war would end—and as a bonus, the worse their morale may drop.

"Onward," she shouted from her mount. "To Feyon!"


	5. Alliance

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 5 -**

**Alliance**

* * *

Three days had passed since the allied forces had marched south to defend the city of Feyon. Their journey had gone quite smoothly, except when they'd had to report to each guard post they'd come across. Catriel and Lisette had always been asked to show their letter of permission, while some scouts who had been ordered to be their guide party were divided into two: one party tasked to march onward to scout ahead, while the other was tasked to stay with them.

The formality and the already tense atmosphere around the Feyonese had escalated further when they saw Catriel's winged mount, Elpha. Well, the creature she mounted was thrice the size of a normal Ferus, so it was to be expected from them to be wary around her presence.

It was before nightfall when Catriel had decided to halt their march and ordered to set up a camp, miles away from the border of Feyon. Resting in her private tent, she had dismissed her armor into thin fog and was preparing herself to study the map of the area before going to sleep. A knock prevented her from doing so.

"Who is it?" she asked, rising her aura reading before getting up from her seat.

"It's Lisette from the Pronteran Church," a voice replied.

Lisette? What on Midgard could the head priestess want from her?

She rose up and let the Arch Bishop enter the tent. Both women bowed their heads slightly to greet one another. "Please have a seat," Catriel said. Lisette gratefully took it. "Is there anything I can do for you in particular?" she asked.

"I'm sure you are well aware of our circumtances, Miss Catriel," she spoke up.

Catriel grabbed a seat behind the only desk in the tent and sat down with hands folded. So this was the reason of the visit. She tried not to let her amusement show. "I'm afraid I should say yes. With the assassins lurking nearby, it was almost a miracle that we were able to enter the forest of Feyon without a scratch."

"And that 'miracle' is what I'm concerned about."

Catriel shifted uncomfotably in her seat. As much as she enjoyed the baffled look shown on her face, she disliked being doubted. "I know. I understand your concern. In fact, I have also thought of the worst possibilities. They must be planning something, or they wouldn't have let us pass the borders."

"And that is what I'm here for. I've been living in the church for years," Lisette stated after a pause. "I can tell the difference of solitude: whether when a heart relents before God, or when it is a calm moment before the storm strikes."

_Interesting. _"So you're implying that they are waiting for a chance to strike?"

Lisette nodded. "You're a trained knight who had also entered many fields of battle. Though this is theorically just a simple deduction, I am quite certain that you are placing our lives in a gamble by setting up a camp at the hillside."

At that, Catriel let a smile bloom on her lips. Small and subtle. "You have read my strategies, haven't you?"

The Arch Bishop's brows furrowed in thought, pondering Catriel's last remark. "So it is true then, that you are deliberately trying to _provoke _those assassins?"

Instead of replying, Catriel stood up and walked over to the side of her tent where a map of the area was being hung. The well drawn map showed the area from where Alberta Port stood until the borders of Sograt Desert. There was a tiny red spot which she had marked herself. "What can you see, Sister Lisette?" She pointed her thumb at their camp's location, just some centimeters away from Feyon.

Lisette frowned for a moment. The area of their camp, as being displayed by the map, was on the hillside of the mountains that spread across the region. The forest of Feyon was vast, and the borders separated the area from Alberta's forest which was just two or three days walk from where they were now.

According to the scouts leading them, they should be able to arrive at Feyon before dusk tomorrow—through the normal route, of course, since they were quite large in number and couldn't possibly access the special routes. Some scouts had already been sent to report to Feyon, informing that they were allies sent by Juno and Prontera to defend their city. And from what the letter they had brought, their reinforcements were "greatly appreciated" by the Feyonese.

The Arch Bishop seemed to choose her words more carefully after failing in reading Catriel's placid face. "From what I can see, we are a day walk from where we are to Feyon and at a hillside of the mountains... Would you please explain further, fair knigthress? I am afraid I can't quite follow your hints of trickery."

Catriel shrugged. "It is as simple as you see," she said while summoning her runic armor. Silver fog gathered around her, swirling and thickening until it formed solid armor. "A day walk to Feyon, and two days walk from those assassins' territory."

Some seconds passed away in complete silence before Lisette completely froze in her seat. Realization struck her mind as her eyes widened in disbelief. With a low voice, she whispered, "And they have not taken action since our arrival."

The two looked on each other; both were silent. "They have many scouts, you know," Catriel finally said, stretching out her hands. "And it is exactly why I use their own intel to our advantage. To prevent further conflict, to say the least. I simply think of Feyon and its people when I thought of it. My subordinates all agreed with me when I proposed this plan."

"So they _are_ marching towards us," stated Lisette with a haunted look on her face.

"Instead towards Feyon," Catriel added. She was careful not to let her voice be colored by sarcasm. "You too have realized that it was impossible for the newly taken Alberta to defend themselves against the massive army of our allied forces, right? Their only option was to cut our march and reduce our number before arriving, _or_ preparing to surround us with reinforcements from Morroc."

"And since they have only taken the City of Merchant for two weeks—"

"—It is impossible for them to clean their way so easily with Feyon rising its guard."

At that moment, Lisette's shocked expression finally calmed down. Catriel carried on with her explanation. "So to cut things short, no reinforcements were able to get into Alberta without some casualties caused by the pro hunters. They are, after all, more familiar with the hills than those poison-bladed sandworms."

Lisette laughed upon realizing what advantage could be gain—for the first time after they joined forces, noted Catriel. She stood up from her seat and shook her head in disbelief. "I really can't understand you Junoans. You've really thought everything through, haven't you?"

Catriel smiled. "Logic and some sense, if combined, can forge a very sharp blade that can cut through even number and odds."

Lisette nodded, still amused at her companion's wit and courage. No normal general would feel at ease by sacrificing their batallion in order to secure citizens. Some would even use a cowardice strategy which sacrificed their people to secure _their_ own escape route. History had recorded that much.

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

_This woman is too hideous_, Lisette gave a mental note to herself. _And interesting all the same. _She was about to walk out from the tent before saying, "I will inform the troops that they should be expecting the enemy soon."

The knightress, who was beckoning Lisette our of her tent, shook her head. "That won't be neccessary. I have already told my men to spread the news of alert once dinner is ready."

Before the two of them could continue their conversation, Gizelle and two Pronteran Lord Knights approached them and bowed profoundly before their officers. "All preparation is ready," he informed the ladies in charge. The two Pronteran knights nodded to Lisette, assuring their commander that the troops were already well informed.

Catriel glanced at the forest enshrouded in darkness that was to be a battleground in mere hours. "And the thing I asked you before, what news of it?"

"What else is it now, if I may know?" Lisette asked.

"Just a simple proposal is all," a low, masculine voice answered from behind.

The commanders and their knights turned right in time to see a dozens—a platoon, perhaps—of snipers who just arrived at their camp. They all landed lightly on the ground, followed shortly by their commander who was riding a giant wolf.

"Greetings, ladies and fair knights," the man, who was riding a wolf, gave a salute. He had a short brown hair and masculine features. Clothed in a dark green battle garb, the Ranger, thought Lisette, could surely move without being detected in a forest like this. Camoflague. His green eyes showed what was to be expected from a ranger: intelegence and sharpness.

"I see you have arrived with an answer," Catriel said while stepping foward to greet the Ranger formally.

"We, Feyonese, can't express our gratitude to you all who have come to our rescue," the Ranger stated while bowing. All the snipers did the same. "Alberta is, as you can see, out of our reach for the time being. Our forces too thin, our weaponry too light. That is why we are delighted to see what difference can be made with proffesionals like you on our side."

_So she had sent the hunters a notice about the plan_, Lisette mused inwardly.

Catriel gave a curt nod. "Be ashamed not of your deeds. You did well in protecting your home this far."

"Ah, that is nothing but a must." The brown haired Ranger's smile widened, his eyes flickering in amusement. Catriel's game of words had always been highly reputed in any kind of negotiation, even within the circle of Fourteen itself. "We, marksmen, are superb in scouting and so are we in defending. But marching towards a taken territory is far from our specialities to be done alone. I hope you can understand our situation as it is."

"We do," Lisette replied. "And that is the very reason why we are sent to help Feyon. And by what name should we call you, sir Ranger?"

"My pardon for being late to introduce myself," he said quickly. "You can call me Azarel. I'm here on behalf of the Hunter Guild to aid you all." He gave a playful punch to the giant wolf who gave a low grunt in return. "This boy's my companion, Igor. Worry not, he is highly trained and only attack at my order alone," he added upon seing his allies flinching at the size of the blue beast.

"A... _warg_, isn't it?" Lisette asked, so carefully she avoided looking at the giant wolf straight in the eye.

There was a pause; all eyes were turning to the warg. Azarel's smile turned into a playful grin upon noticing the Arch Bishop's fright.

"You are correct, My Lady. A special trained warg who is specialized in aiding rangers in their hunt. And I see _you _are not showing any reaction," he said to Catriel who was just glancing silently at Igor. The scarlet-eyed knightress had fallen silent shortly after Azarel had introduced his partner, perhaps busy studying the warg's feature. "Have you met a warg rider before, My Lady?"

"No," Catriel replied while giving signal to Gizelle to mobilize the troops. Azarel and Lisette followed after her. "But how exactly can I bring myself to react further when I'm used to a _dragon_'s company?"


	6. Battle Cry

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 6 -**

**Battle Cry**

* * *

The sound of metal meeting flesh, accompanied with the whooshing arrows and the deafening cries of the allied forces were adding to the flames that were engulfing the forest of Feyon. Black-shaft arrows flew in a wild rhythm; venomous purple clouds were rising from the scorched ground, threatening anyone who were dumb enough to stay in one place. Fortunately, the Junoan Knights knew better. Divided into battalions and squadrons, the Knights moved in a defensive formation, circling the groups of snipers that moved swiftly in and out of the wall of armors, javelins and swords.

The shadow lurkers, on the other hand, were like nimble serpents slithering through and past the woods. With poisonous blades and throwing knives, they made a grievous stand against the knights who could barely keep up with their agility and ferocity. They had not the support the allied forces had, though, and that little bit of difference the priests made was astounding: their healing arts and magical barricades were starting to agitate the Rebels. If a minute ago they were still in confusion because of the massive wall of defense that had stood unshakeable before them, now that a cry of counterattack had been passed on, they were frantic.

The Pronteran Knights, blurry white shapes in the chaos, were the ones leading the counterattack. Their Pecos hawked unhappily as they were forced to slice through the ranks of the enemy, and using the momentum the Feyonese Trappers had created, their swords sang for blood.

Lisette Quinell had to bite back her astonishment at how all of this had gone according to a certain someone's predictions and plan. Four hours had passed since the battle had begun, and by the looks of it, Lisette predicted that it wouldn't drag any longer than two or three more hours at best—since the allied forces had begun charging back. The Rebels were cunning, they had plotted on attacking the newcomers before they could reach the borders of Feyon, but what they had not expected was an allied army that was _prepared_ to meet them head on. Traps had been laid, snipers and hunter had been positioned on tree tops, knights had been stationed in squads. The forest of Feyon had been armed to teeth.

"Third Unit, begin the charge!" Gizelle, Catriel Lachelle's right hand man, shouted as he pointed his two-handed sword at the confused band of assassin.

Following their Lt. General's order, the Junoan knights readied their spears and swords, then charged in without hesitation. They quickly bashed the unlucky assassins who happened to be stuck in a trap zone. Some were killed without any attempt to fight back while the lucky ones tried their best to slit the knights' throats or poison them. But that was not the last of it.

Without any follower nor supporter, Catriel rushed into the crowd of warriors with an inhumane speed, slashing every enemy she came across with such precision she didn't even scratch her comrades' armors. Her dual, runic, swords, were bursting in Aura Blade, the white energy flowing like flames. The skill must have been mastered. Silver layers of fog—both from her rune magic and Lisette's Assumptio—were shrouding her movements, creating strings of aura whenever her blades came in touch with her victims.

Lisette watched in amazement as the commander of Junoan knights went solo on the groups of deadly killers. She was standing with her priest squad on a higher ground to support as many groups as possible, and it was her strategic position that gave her the chance to analyze the battle quite clearly. She noticed that Catriel had given every instruction her men needed, preparing them to meet the expectations of her strategies and plans. But after that, she completely acted alone. Lord Knight Gizelle was the one commanding the Junoan knights; he was taking full control of the Junoan army while Catriel was acting as a one-man army. This was a unique battle tactic, not to mention terrifying.

She was moving from one group to another, her blades dancing in a blur of glowing silver and mythical hum. No assassins or rogues stood chance against her.

"Behind you!" A knight shouted when some assassins tried to corner Catriel by moving quickly to catch her off-guard from behind.

In a mere second, Catriel turned around, so quick Lisette could only saw a flash of white. Catriel raised one had. An immense silver aura burst from her blade, creating a shield that completely blocked the assassins' poisonous blades. But that didn't end. The silver aura then created another layer, preventing the assassins to charge forward. Then another layer came, dispersing with another—forming a defensive wall of silver energy. It was as if she was being protected by—

"A cocoon made of rune magic," Lisette breathed.

The runic cocoon was now complete. It was shielding Catriel from any attack while she simply stood without moving. Noticing, how their attacks were useless, the assassins began to surround her, trying every method of attack to break the solid protection. None succeeded though.

"It's useless."

A Junoan knight who was charged to defend her squad smiled as he watched his commander being preyed on.

Lisette blinked at the man. "Is every Rune Knight capable of creating shields from mere aura like that?" she asked, pondering if she should cast a Sanctuary on where Catriel stood.

"No," he chuckled. "Our commander's kind of special, you see."

This time, another knight spoke up. "Our lady mastered every characteristic of rune magic in weeks and that what makes her superior despite her young age. So worry not. She doesn't need your support yet."

Before Lisette could utter any word, another knight cut in. "To simply put it, she's a prodigy at runes," he said with a grin.

The priests in Lisette's squad were now listening with interest, their commander included. "Yes. I thought I've never seen such technique in Midgard," Lisette admitted. To be frank, she didn't even think such a skill existed at all. "Did she create that technique by herself?"

The knights' smiles broadened. "She did," one of them said. "After analyzing her combat techniques, Lady Catriel realized that none of rune magic techs the scripts offer has any defense artes written in there, so she simply created one."

"Normal Rune Knights would use rune magic to enhance their battle skills, but it was completely the opposite for her," the knight who'd spoken first said.

Lisette raised an eyebrow, trying to see the strings these foreigners tried to pull. "What are you implying, fair knights?"

"It means that Lady Catriel has mastered the art of rune magic completely. And by possessing a greater magical ability, she can use them almost as freely as her hands," one of the knights concluded while tapping his hand with his broad sword's grip. "You said it before, Lady Bishop, you've never seen her techniques. It is simply because her rune mastery level is far above any normal Rune Knights."

"To make it easier to understand," the oldest of them said, "if rune mastery level is rated from one to ten, Lady Catriel's skill level should be at thirteen, surpassing any Rune Knight's capability to use and craft runes."

"Just watch," one of them shrugged and waved his blade towards the lone fighter below them. "You'll see another point besides her strategies and charity that makes us follow her."

The listeners turned their heads to watch the raging battle once more, with a certain interest now. Down there, apart from other groups of battling knights and rogues, Catriel still stood alone, circled by a band of assassin like a deer cornered by a pack of hyenas. She was unmoving, silently watching every attempt the Morrocians made to break her cocoon. And when they were furious enough to start blasting her with poisonous balls, she moved her blades slowly upwards. All eyes were being captivated the moment she played her long, silver swords.

It was like a slow, beautiful dance. She moved slowly with such elegance and intimidation that the assassins quickly backed away from her. Of course, another layer of silver aura bloomed every time she swung her swords and that was what made her attackers grow more cautious around her.

By the time the silver fog was thick enough to completely hide her movements from the assassins, she plunged her swords into the ground, so deep that half of the blades were buried into the soil. The runic cocoon then flashed and strings of aura spread like a blooming flower; so quick the assassins didn't have a chance to evade. The thick strings of runic aura stabbed every part of their bodies in a second. Blood and silver fog quickly enshrouded the area.

"An absolute defense," a knight stated with a wide grin, "_and _a brutal offense."

All members in Lisette's party were watching in horror now. Even Lisette had to blink a few times until she could be sure that every assassin who had surrounding Catriel some seconds ago were now dead, bloodied on the ground.

_Now_ she understood why the lady had this intimidating presence in battle, even as a lone wolf. Her style of fighting surely matched her personality: elegant, sharp, and disastrous. It was absolutely a style to perform a massacre.

"Now that you have seen her skills with your own eyes," one of the Junoans spoke up, "I do hope that we can continue to maintain our term of alliance with you all."

"Yes, of course." Lisette nodded politely towards her guards and placed her hand on her chest. "On behalf of the Pronteran Church, I shall devote myself to win this war with you." The knights and the priests then exchanged a bow.

_It is fortunate that she's on our side, _Lisette thought with a subtle smile when her eyes were set back on Catriel. _And as a precaution, I guess I should warn my squad not to ever make her angry._

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

"I guess I can understand why I should hate this mission by now."

"Stop complaining," Irine grunted, clearly irritated. "I'm in the same boat as you and like you, I'm also drenched in sweat!"

Remus waved his gloved hand casually, trying to calm the enraged Irine who was now using a report paper sheet as a fan. "It is a good thing that the temperature does drop after sunset though," he tried to cheer her up. Though without avail it seemed, since Irine only rolled her eyes.

They were chatting in Remus' personal tent, and both were quite exhausted after some rounds of army drills and camps inspection. After their arrival, the allied army had been busy in tightening their defenses at Sograt and stationing their troops across the borders. The ordeal of going through meetings with the heads in charge was quite tiring without Catriel. They did agree though, that the Junoans would take up the front line should another round of battle start (much to Remus' pestering), and that was what made the two Ambassadors practically restless.

It was two hours before sunset now, and the two were trying to regain their composure by relaxing in Remus' tent since Irine's was located quite far from the meeting tent. Although quite spacious in size, the tent's indoors was already in a messy state. A lantern was set to light the dim room while stacks of report paper, robes, shirts and rune markers were everywhere. The floor was covered with parchments and maps, leaving only a narrow trail for a person to go in and out without stepping on things.

At the other side of the room, Irine Millicent sat in a chair with crossed legs, astonished by how her comrade in arms didn't even bother to arrange his belongings. It had only been four days after their arrival; she didn't dare to imagine what would become of the tent should Remus lived in it for a month.

"Grab yourself a cup of cold water. That'll do some good to your mood," Remus suggested as he unbuttoned his knight's robe and sat on his bed.

Irine raised an eyebrow upon hearing his statement. "_Cold_ water? I thought we are in a _desert _here."

"Ask some wizards in the camps," he pointed out, grinning broadly while handing her a glass of water. "They can surely pull some trick."

She sighed before accepting the drink. "Grow up."

Before they could continue, someone knocked on Remus' tent. "I have an urgent message, sir," a voice said.

Remus and Irine exchanged a glance before Remus permitted the messenger to enter the tent. A knight, who was a personnel in Remus' battalion, entered the room in haste, but quickly lost his sense of balance after trying—and failing—to avoid stepping on his commander's belongings. "Reporting, sir," he said hurriedly, steadying himself with some difficulty after a misstep. "Lady Catriel and the allied army has encountered the rebel forces last night."

Remus quickly rose up from his bed while Irine coughed her drink. Disbelief was clearly etched in their expression. "Yesterday did you say?" Irine asked, her voice rising into a shout. "That's ridiculously fast!"

"The rebels shouldn't have known about our alliance until we came to Prontera!" Remus added, almost as furious as Irine. "How could they muster such an army to act so fast?"

"We don't know about that, sir," the messenger quickly replied, noticing that his commanders' temper was already at its highest because of the harsh climate in Sograt. "It was just this morning that the word was out, the time they reached Feyon."

"Did they make it?" Remus and Irine asked, almost in unison.

"Yes. It seemed that Lady Catriel had known that they were to be ambushed, and so, she turned the table by asking the Feyonese Trappers for help."

Remus let out a deep sigh before falling into a sitting position on his bed. He ran a hand through his messy hair "So they were not ambushed unprepared then...?"

The messenger nodded. "Their casualties were at a minimum level. They have successfully pushed the enemy back to Alberta. Our scouts say that the rebels began retreating the moment our lady entered the battlefield." A pause, and for that one brief moment, Irine could see amazement coloring the knight's eyes. "It seems that they had attacked the allied army without knowing that Lady Catriel was in charge."

Irine shook her head, not wanting to let the facts go just like that. "Catriel's strategies aside, _how _could they know that we are on the move already? Alberta shouldn't have had the strength to stand against us—which means that their reinforcements should've played a great role on the assault."

"Then it means that it is impossible to get rid of their scouts from Midgard completely," Remus concluded. "While the worst scenario is—"

"There are some leaks in our alliance," Irine sharply cut in. Her brows furrowed deep in thought. She turned towards the messenger. "Do you have anything else to report?"

"Yes, ma'am. There is an issue to deploy. We are to make a move. This order has been issued from the heads in Prontera. It seems that the King wants us to take Sograt Desert as soon as possible."

"Impatient, are we?" The Royal Guard laughed bitterly. "But I guess with our combined forces now, it would not be so impossible now."

"Although we can't just forget about the Assassin's Guild since it is located just miles from where we sleep," Remus reminded her. He then waved his hand to the messenger and dismissed him before stretching his body. "Our king Tristan sure is an optimistic guy."

"I can't deny the fact that we _are _greater in number now. But making a bold move this soon is kinda...wrong."

"Maybe... I wonder if Ephron has been contacted."

"We are the acting ambassadors now," Irine said with a sigh. "Every decision falls upon our shoulder, you know. But true, if we are to make the attack first, surely the issue to deploy should've also reached the Fourteen's ears before ours."

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "I don't dare to be pessimistic in this war, but I think even a pack of hungry wolves would wait for a chance to strike."

Irine placed the paper she had been using as a fan on another stacks of parchment before replying, "Remember that we are in the worse position. Delayed attack too has its own compensation. Although I hate the feeling that they are hiding something from us."

Remus tilted his head to one side while pondering on Irine's remark. He looked down at the paper she had just put down and then back at the Royal Guard. "Who are you talking about here? The rebels, or the king?"

Irine got up to her feet and carefully trailed her way out of the room without stepping on Remus' belongings. Before going out, she said in a low voice through gritted teeth: "Both of them."

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

**A/N : **I'm opening some slots for characters for this story since I need a lot of characters in this fic (yes, the story will be quite long). If you want to 'donate' your character, just review.

I need:

**Name, gender, job, **and the** appearance**plus the **basic personality **of your OC(s).

Please note that their behavior and characters will be **mine **to manipulate, as well as their role(s) in the story.


	7. Extra : The Bond They Share

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Extra -**

**The Bond They Share**

* * *

An hour after the rebel army had fled the forest of Feyon, things had practically calmed down. Well, 'calmed down' didn't mean that it had been any easier for the Feyonese and the Junoans. After scouting the area in rounds for any shadow lurkers, the foreign knights, which had been welcomed warmly by the hunters and snipers, were then led to the city of Feyon.

It was nearly midnight, yet a dense, heavy atmosphere still clung in the air. The Feyonese were restless, the warriors knew; the city folks were fearing that they may lost a loved one during the assault. Although their casualties were at a minimum level, it didn't mean that they hadn't lost a soul. More than fifty hunters were found dead, and the knights were also burdened with the loss of their own comrades.

Azarel, the Ranger who had led the sniper squad in the previous battle, had suggested Catriel and Lisette to take some rest in an inn which had already been hastily prepared for them. Both women were reluctant to rest just yet since the Feyonese were still busy cleaning up the mess and securing the roads that had been blocked by corpses and tree trunks, but at the raven haired Ranger's plea, they finally gave in. _"The higher ups would skin me alive if I let you ladies handle all the work," _had been his magic words.

"I offer my sincerest gratitude for helping us in defending Feyon." Azarel, who was walking in front of Catriel and Lisette spoke up when they reached the gate of the city. "Feyon would have been lost if it wasn't for you."

"It is our duty to prevent such harm from haunting the city," Catriel dismissed with a humble nod. She was accepting the Ranger's words of gratitude, but also diminishing it at the same time. "After all, I can't simply go back to Juno and tell my comrades that I've made a mistake and let the rebels destroy Feyon now, can I?"

"You are being too humble, Lady Catriel," Azarel said after a moment's pause during which he seemed uncertain how to address the Rune Knightress. "And Lady Lisette too, please enjoy your stay at the inn. I shall come to meet you two at ten."

Lisette nodded politely before they parted ways. The two ladies, accompanied by their right hand-man, entered the sumptuous inn (from its size and interior, they could only conclude that the building was built for the Ruler's honorable guests) and exchanged bows before going to their own chamber.

"Call me if you ever need anything," Gizelle said to his commander as they walked down the corridor. The place was a bit dark since only a little number of lantern had been lit. The Feyonese, some travelers said, had a tradition of decreasing the light in their houses to grieve for their lost ones. It was an old tradition of mourning passed from generation to generation, they said. "Sir Azarel has told me a thing or two about this place, and I do have the experience of living here."

Catriel stayed mute for some seconds before fixing her gaze on the brown haired Lord Knight. "By any chance, have you travelled here before?" she asked while pulling her chamber's door open.

Gizelle nodded sternly. "Yes, My Lady. Some of my family members moved South during the inspection eleven years ago. And by luck, none of them are the residents of Alberta."

Catriel gave him a weary smile. "You can put it down. You know I'm too tired to cling onto formality now." After an afterthought, she added, "Have you received any word from them? Your family, I mean."

"I have," he replied, his whole body relaxing upon Catriel's remark. Catriel was someone who valued traditions and formality above any of the members of the Circle. It was a rare occasion for her to ask a companion to drop all the ranks, badges and polite tones. Tiredness must have clouded her mind. "Ever since my mother's burial, my family has moved to Izlude and contacted me regularly. They told me that the Pronterans are fortifying the defenses there to secure the sea route."

"I see. I am sorry I wasn't be able to attend her burial."

"It is fine," he smiled. "For us knights, protecting the ones who still breathe comes first. My personal affair aside, you shouldn't blame yourself for anything that has happened."

At his words, Catriel dipped her head low, the long strands of her dark hair a curtain to her face. The two stayed silent for some minutes; Gizelle knew that both of them were trying to shake off the feeling of the dead in their hands. Killing was their job, but never their favorite. It was just a year ago since Gizelle had been promoted to be Catriel's second in command.

The two had studied each other's behavior and character closely during the days in the North. And luckily, their personalities were similar since the two were quite fond of solitude. It was not hard for Gizelle to work and socialize with the silent Catriel. She was work-aholic, always prioritizing duty above all else. Rumor had it: many had given up working under her.

Perhaps noticing a buried potential in her subordinate, it hadn't taken a long time for Gizelle to earn Catriel's trust and be promoted as her second in command. As a bonus, he had also earned her trust as a comrade. The two would spend their free days sharing what was on their mind, giving each other their opinion about how things should work in this corrupted world they lived in. Finding the fact that they shared the same vision and way of thinking, the two got along quite well.

Realizing that Catriel's solemn expression had grown darker and darker, Gizelle chose to respect his commander's feelings for the deceased by standing still, accompanying the Rune Knightress until she was strong enough to push the emotions aside and look up. Catriel, as far as he knew, had always been like this: she would shut her heart tightly after spilling blood, always struggling to make peace with herself. It was precisely at this kind of moment that Gizelle found himself reluctant to leave the knightress' side. It was she, after all, who had advised him not to let his emotions take control over himself.

From his point of view, however, this wasn't as simple as he would like to think it to be. Gizelle was a head taller than his commander, and when looking down to the woman before him, in some ways, he had a feeling that _he _was the one who should bear all the burden; not the frail maiden who clad herself in armor and coldness who was standing front of him. Stupid, many would say unto him, but that feeling was the only thing he couldn't toss aside. He had always had a feeling that Catriel was tormenting herself due to the power she bore.

_"Is it a sin to possess power?" _He still remembered her low, trembling voice, when she had clung onto a child's lifeless body on a battlefield.

That question, which Catriel had asked on a mission to annihilate every single person they found on an underground facility experimenting on humans, was still as clear as a cracking thunder in Gizelle's mind. It was that day that he found out the ever emotionless Runes Prodigy could feel remorse towards the dead.

"Forgive me," Catriel broke the silence after some minutes had passed by. She shot him an apologetic smile. "I've always made you carry all the burden I'm supposed to carry."

If Catriel had really looked up upon her companion's face, she would have spotted that the stern look on Gizelle's face had softened into a tender one. His amber eyes gleamed in empathy as he trailed the saddened scarlet orbs. "I don't need your apologize. This is a burden I am willing to carry," he stated while shutting his eyes. "You don't need to blame yourself over their deaths too. It _is _a war."

Catriel stared at the ground before nodding slightly. Her darkened eyes then looked straight at Gizelle's. "That goes for you too," she whispered, so soft Gizelle barely caught her words.

"Pardon?"

"No," Catriel shook her head before turning around. "You should be tired from all that's happened. Have a rest," she said, once again adorning authority and power to her tone. "We have to meet the heads of Feyon tomorrow. We can't afford to meet them with eyes half shut."

Gizelle gave a bow at her back. "Yes, My Lady."

Before the door was shut, Catriel turned slightly to face the Lord Knight and smiled. "Good night," she murmured.

And then the door was closed, leaving him alone in the darkness.

The Lord Knight clutched his metal-gloved hands into fists.

The smile may be small and through a forlorn, pale face, but that was enough for him. Enough for him to tilt his head upwards and live on.


	8. A Strategic Meeting

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 7 -**

**A Strategic Meeting**

* * *

Up there in Juno, seasons had their own period that differed from the Southern Plains. It was nearly winter there. It was when the light of the stars were at their utmost reluctance to glow, their sparkle often obscured by heavy clouds that were ready to pour snowflakes to the earth. It was at a time like these that night-time travel was being avoided. If gods did sleep, then people believed that winter was the time when those stars—which were said to be the very own embodiment of gods—were lingering in their lairs, deep in slumber.

All members of the Fourteen had retired to their chambers after attending a regular meeting with the Senate. Meetings had come up more regularly than they normally did because of the blossoming war in the South: they were all hungry for updates, wary for casualties and expectant of successes. Although only three soldiers were entitled as ambassadors, it didn't mean that the ones who stayed in the North could simply watch the progress from afar. There were tons of works to do, such as analyzing the documents and reports, calculating supply goods to be transported, and yeah, worrying over nothing.

Ephron, one of the senior members of the Rune Knights in the circle of the Fourteen, was in his study, his eyebrows a taut line. He had attended his schedule for today, and was trying to enjoy a cup of tea while trying to make himself busy since he knew he'd thought about his comrades down in Midgard and would have a trouble sleeping afterwards. Officers, especially those who were experienced in the field of war strategies and combat, would label a lack of sleeping as a nemesis. Ephron had done it. But this time, he couldn't help it. The thought of his younger comrades, whom he had treated as family, going into war was not something he could simply shake off. Weak, unexperienced soldiers may call him a worrywart if they didn't know about his fear of losing his loved ones. Despite being ranked as a Rune Knight, but he couldn't let the thought of his comrades' endangered lives escape his mind for even a minute.

The messenger from Prontera had briefed the Fourteen with news from the South today, and that was what playing on his mind. Catriel might have seen things through—and such was the very reason why he sent her South—but how long would this good 'luck' last? Surely he didn't expect his comrades to return unscratched from a _war_.

"_We can only pray for the gallant souls who reside in the South to return safely from the battlefield," _the voice of a Senate member was still ringing in his mind, troubling him even more. _"Sending more than three battalions as a reinforcement for an allied kingdom would be a suicide, for it would leave our home improperly defended. What's more, it is already written as a rule."_

"_I understand your concern," _a Council member had said when the Fourteen was trying to bring more objections toward the statement. _"But we should not let our guard down by sending more battalions than we have to. The risk is too high if another battalion were to leave the capital. Especially at a time like these."_

Some members of the Fourteen had pressed hard against the rule, stating that their comrades' lives might be endangered if the troops were to be divided into two—which had happened, sadly. Ephron had also been trying to change the Senate's mind as best as he could, ensuring them that the possibility of defeat was quite high if the enemy were to gain more allies. Prontera had lost many of its men ever since the last round of battle had ended in their a momentary victory at Sograt. As a plus, the area they were meant to defend now was vast, making the guarding mission more difficult, especially when it came to Feyon.

Although the city may have its natural walls of cliffs and a confusing maze of trees to block the enemy's charge, it was all of matter of time before the city fell into the hands of the rebels. It was not hard, after all, for the enemy to surround them and strike Feyon from behind, especially with Alberta nearby.

Ephron sighed upon the thought. His light brown eyes, although as tired as they may be, were still darting from one report sheet to another when some rounds of impatient knocking on his door gained his attention.

"Who is it?" he asked without getting up from his seat.

"It's me," said a low, grunting-like voice from behind the well engraved wooden door. "May I come in?"

"Gilliard?" Ephron's eyebrow raised upon hearing the hoarse, low-pitched voice. It was unusual for the senior Royal Guard to stay up late and still linger around the castle, moreover to come into another's chamber to chat. "Please do enter. The door's not locked."

Entering the room in a haste, Gilliard walked straight to Ephron's desk and slammed a stack of paper he was holding, making the indigo-haired Rune Knight almost jump in surprise from the gesture alone. Some papers and files flew from the table as he did so.

"What is it all of a sudden?" asked a confused Ephron. Gilliard, as far as he knew, was a man of a high esteem that would not be shaken by his emotions so easily. He could be a teaser at times—even a lame joker—but never the one to be so easily tempted by situations. Royal Guards devoted their souls to the Lord through their speech and action. Getting enraged was not listed in their books.

"This is the report from the Pronteran Church I just got minutes ago," Gilliard stated grimly, his eyes blazing in anger. "Just read them later—I'll tell you what's written in there: black-listed guilds have shown aggression soon after our men reached Midgard."

Ephron grabbed the papers and carefully read them one by one. "Isn't that to be expected? I thought Prontera has issued their troops to deal with them after the war broke loose."

"Same thought here," Gilliard nodded. "But that's not all. You know that one of them has allegiance with a dark guild called Night Assailant, don't you?"

Ephron lifted his head from the papers and looked at the giant Royal Guard with narrowed eyes. When Gilliard didn't say a word to supply him with more information, he sighed and shook his head bitterly. "So it has come to this."

"We were careless not to spy on them," the beardy man hissed, his face irritated. "We should have guessed something like this would happen before we send those three down to war."

"Night Assailant, huh?" Ephron sighed while massaging his forehead with his dark-gloved hand. This... had bloomed into a more troubling trial than he'd assumed. "For such an infamous guild to turn upon... Our enemy sure is a daring one."

"Money and term of bribery are connected, Ephron. This _is_ a war." Gilliard then tried to regain his composure by stretching out his stiff limbs, and for perhaps a hundredth time, Ephron wondered how the man could move so casually in that heavy armor. If anything he looked as if he was clothed in silk rather than steel. "I don't know how they managed to hire such a high-ranked guild, and I certainly don't want to imagine what they demand for compensation in return, but everything is worth trying if the result is victory over this war."

"You seem to... fear this guild being recruited by our enemy," Ephron stated, choosing his words with care.

"It's not that I fear them!" Gilliard hollered. He seemed tempted to defend his pride with more arguments, but opted to close his mouth and breathed deeply. "It's just—Look, Ephron, I have a friend of their kind and I know what they _are_." He lowered his voice into a whisper. "They are beasts in the form of humans. You won't know what they're up to, but people know that they always carry the scent of blood whenever they draw their blades. I've heard many uncomfortable rumors about their deeds, and I would not cross blades with them unless situation really demands me to."

Ephron produced a small laughter as he put the paper down. He struggled to take this in. It was like his worst nightmare had become reality in mere hours. "It'd be better if we could simply _hope_ that they'd failed in hiring them, huh?"

"One thing we, Royal Guards, were lectured about is that absence of evidence is _not_ evidence of absence. It is always better to think that the enemy is a step ahead than us, sir Knight."

"I know, I know," Ephron waved his hand, using the other one to support his weight as he leaned on the table. "And the worst scenario is that they'd agreed to help these rebels... Say, which way do you think they would take to reach Midgard? I heard that their base is located near the City of Sakura, Amatsu."

"Air route," Gilliard replied without any slight of uncertainties. "The Night Assailant is famous for its funds since payment of their service is very high. And so, it is not impossible for them to bribe the higher-ups in Amatsu to lend an airship or two. And since Izlude is still under Prontera's control, the only port available for the time being is—"

"Alberta."

"Yes. It would take one or two days longer, but I guess that is their only option for now."

"And the only squad that is stationed there is Catriel's," Ephron pondered, gazing afar through the half-opened window which showed nothing but darkness. A distant look came into his eyes. But after spending a minute in total silence, he then got up to his feet and hurriedly walked towards the door leading outside. Gilliard quickly followed after him. The dwindling sound of their footsteps were the only thing could be heard echoing throughout the empty hallway.

"Where are you going at this hour?" Gilliard asked while trailing after the younger warrior.

"Proposing a letter of reinforcement," he replied without decreasing his pace. They were walking in an empty corridor before turning to the Senate's meeting hall and stopped before the large door. The Rune Knight turned around to face Gilliard, determination was clearly etched on his sharp-angular face. "Fighting a band of shadow killers is already bad enough to be handled by a squad alone. I won't let them be massacred by those blood craving _Shinobi_. Ever."

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

In the following days after the issue to deploy had been officially announced by the heads in Prontera, the allied army stationed at Sograt Desert was literally restless. Soldiers could be seen passing by with ransom bags or weapons around the camp, jumping from one task to another while the higher-ups were busy studying mountains of maps and old documents about geographic details that could help them in the upcoming battle. But since such a boring task was mainly discussed by the Creators and Wizards in camp, the only room left for the blade wielders was to study whatever result these magic users came up with.

Irine and Remus, acting as any ambassadors should be, had attended regular meeting in which timing had been doubled because of their progression in battle preparation. What were they talking about, you ask? Many, many things every soldier had to wrap up before declaring an assault. Maps had been studied, routes had been marked, and supplies had been prepared. So to be frank, all that left was the order to begin the march.

The sun had almost been drowned by the end of the vast desert when they were summoned to the meeting camp. A male Pronteran Rune Knight by the name of Harrel, who was the head of Pronteran knights in the Borderland, was leading the discussion today. He was a tall man with a stern look on his jade eyes. His blonde, noble-style hair was finely arranged in a low ponytail—the sight of him a complete opposite of Remus who didn't even bother to comb his hair. By appearance, he was the oldest of the eight Pronterans that had attended the meeting this evening.

"I believe that every preparation and task at hand has been completed," he said, declaring the end of the report session. "As we all know, King Tristan has issued the order to launch an attack to recapture the southern part of Sograt Desert within these two weeks. It is, from my point of view, an expected act of precaution before our enemy slit our throats in our sleep and take Sograt for themselves, and thus, endangering Izlude and Prontera."

"A moment," a tanned-skin Shura, who took charge of the monks and champions in the region, said as she raised her gloved hand. Her semi-long jet-black hair was tangled in a high ponytail. Although covered by a hood of her Monk's jacket, some scars were still visible on her face, and Remus could swear she had more than those on her body though he was reluctant to imagine it. Let alone asking why she wanted to keep those scars by not going to see some High Priest to heal them.

"You may speak, Lady Isha," Harrel gave her the permission to talk. The slightly muscular young woman returned the head-bow before taking a deep breath and spoke up.

"Before we charge south, there is something that I believe all of you are aware of." All were silent when she carried on with her speech. Her low, powerful voice was like a hum in the quietness of the tent. "As a warrior who had gone into countless encounters against assassins and rogues—yeah, bar fights included," she grinned and paused talking to give the audience a room for chuckling. After the laughter ceased, she continued: "I can say that these shadow lurkers are not the enemy to be underastimated. True, we did hear about our forces' victory over them some days ago, but I can clearly tell that they were simply lucky because of the terrain of the area. But remember, we will be fighting them in a desert; their home, to be specific. Their playground."

There was this grim silence that hung in the air as the listeners waited for Isha to carry on. Of course, all of them were aware of it. And fear was something they couldn't resist if rumors about assassins and rogues were speaking of the truth. The amount of blood these rumors spilled was none to be taken lightly.

"We may have the upper hand if we act accordingly," The Shura went on, hammering the table's wooden surface with her index finger. "But in the matter of endurance, we are at disadvantage. The longer we fight in the desert, the longer we suffer. After the temperature drops, if we are to attack, we have to finish it in a single blow. You've all seen how our morale has dropped because of the harsh environment."

"I agree with Lady Isha." Irine raised her hand. All eyes immediately turned on her. "The shadow lurkers have many tricks behind their sleeves, and they are guaranteed to employ more rogues since we are playing in their territory. A delayed battle would make us be blown away eventually. If we want to win against them, then we have to push them back in one move. Not only our strength will be depleted if the fight lasts longer than that... Our soldiers' morale too will be in danger when the temperature rises after the sun's up."

"Changing the terrain of the field _is_ possible, you know." This time, a male Sorcerer spoke up. "Although it is as the two ladies have said, the longer the battle lasts, the sooner we would be exhausted. Employing a certain element is our job, but I cannot guarantee that it will take much effect once our enemy bombards the field with their venom."

"Then we'd better come up with a more strategic plan," the Shura said. "We all know what will be the key in this battle." She tapped her leg. "It's speed."

This time, a male Pronteran Royal Guard spoke up. "I agree. Time and speed will favor us greatly if we employ them accordingly, as the Lady has stated. Some waves of assault should be repeated until we are able to conquer the southern part of Sograt. There is nothing much we can do once they retreat southeast. Pressing the charge further than that would only exhaust us."

"Then a one-night round it is then," Remus concluded, leaning back in his chair before another argument was brought up. "Mind you, I'm not the type who's really into strategies and plans, but there is one thing that I'm aware of. If we lose... well, imagination is hot, so we can ponder about that on our own. Prontera and Izlude are behind our backs right now, so yeah, the longer we delay, the more dangerous it will be. I suggest we move as fast as possible and end this with one blow before they could retaliate. Any objections?"

The question was left unreplied for some minutes before Harrel got up from his chair. "Be it so then," he said while looking to every face in the room. "A one-night battle."

The rest quickly rose from their chair. "Tomorrow at twilight," Harrel declared. "We shall press the charge. Rest well, my comrades. Tomorrow will be a lo~ng day," he added with a broad smile.


	9. Imagine the Fire

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 8 -**

**Imagine the Fire**

* * *

"Did you get enough sleep, Lady Catriel?"

Azarel the Ranger was walking alongside the heavy eyed Catriel in a hallway that led to the clearing outside of the palace. He had been instructed by the Elders to escort the Junoan officer from place to place, giving a little detour so that she could study the terrain that had already been recorded by maps in her hands. Lisette Quinell had excluded herself from the mini tour, saying that her duty was to the injured and wounded, and so leaving Catriel in the companionship of the raven haired Ranger and Gizelle.

At the question, Catriel shook her head in denial although it seemed that her face couldn't lie this time. Not since the last assault on Amatsu years ago had both her heart and eyes been so heavy. She had spent the night staring up into the ceiling, feeling restless and dirty. Her body had protested, demanding sleep to come, but her mind resisted. No matter how hard she'd tried to close her eyes and shut her thoughts, sleep wouldn't seize her. If she had been at home, at Juno, she knew that her feet would have already carried her to one of the highest spots in city where she would be able to stare into the vast sky and enjoy the chilling night air. But this was Feyon. After the bloodshed, home seemed to be a memory now.

As a solder, she knew this was a weakness, a weakness that could easily kill her no less, but she never seemed be able to over it. No, forgiveness and mercy weren't meant for her, she thought with disdain. Taking people's lives was not a sin to be easily overlooked, after all.

"If I may suggest," said Azarel in a low tone, "try to rest as soon as you hit the inn. It is a good thing to rest early since we'd be returning before sunset." He paused, studying Catriel's pale face before carefully adding, "And I'm not trying to be cocky by advising someone who's as experienced as you are, but please do mind that this war has only just begun. You don't want to exhaust yourself and get badly wounded in battle, I'm sure."

Catriel forced a smile, a tired one, before replying, "I know what you mean, Sir Azarel, and I thank you for your concern; but I am fine. I can handle myself and I do know the importance of one's health in a situation like this."

Azarel hesitated for a moment, words flickering on his sharp face, but then chose to accept Catriel's defense by simply nodding his head. After reaching the door leading outside, the three walked to the northern region of Feyon. Igor, who was waiting for his master in front the building, quickly got up to its clawed feet and accompanied Azarel. The city was a bit quieter than yesterday, but some people running errands still could be seen amidst the busy soldiers and priests. The gentle breeze soothed Catriel's hazy mind although she still felt a bit dizzy and weary. But looking at people in Feyon was enough for her to keep her feet moving; she had citizens to protect and that reason alone was enough to push all the tormenting grip of guilt to the back of her mind.

After passing some guard posts outside of the city, the three arrived at a seemingly quiet village—a separated district from the busy Feyon. "Welcome to Archer Village," Azarel said as he gestured a hand towards the large wooden gate.

"I've heard of this place," Catriel commented, glancing around. The village was filled with greenery with a soft essence of wilderness sensible in the air. Tall trees and bamboos surrounded the pathways, the whole area was built unseparated from the forest. She could imagine how the village would be like in the time of peace: the soft hum of blacksmith working on the forge, the hissing of arrows being shot at dummies, the scent of dishes being prepared in houses... It truly was a pleasant place to be. "I like this place," she said, unable to bear the thought to herself anymore.

Some villagers could be seen passing by. They turned to give Azarel and Catriel a slight nod of respect as they trailed a path to a small hill at the far back of the area. The Ranger returned the smile with a proud grin. "This is the place where archers are trained before they are titled hunters," Azarel explained. He pointed his finger at an overlooking post visible from where they stood. "We shall get a clear view of the area from there. I'm sorry for not allowing your mount to come with us."

"It's fine. A winged dragon of that size is not suited for this terrain anyway," was her reply. Well, to be honest, it was more like 'there was not enough space for the beast to land and take off'—after all, winged dragons were of Juno's breed, but she locked those words in her head.

The three walked and climbed a stone staircase leading up to a higher ground. When they'd finally made it there, Azarel turned to his face his guests, holding up a map of his own, before a gang of kids came running into him, assaulting him and Igor from behind. "Whoa, whoa, there," he managed to stay on his feet despite the blow.

"Azarel, welcome back!" one of the children shouted happily, his arms quickly wrapped around the Ranger's waist. The kid, whom Catriel thought to be ten or  
so in age, had similar features to Azarel: short black hair and sharp complexion. Catriel wondered if they were, in any chance, brothers. "Mom said you defeated the bad guys and sent them home crying!"

The others bounced happily around Azarel, waving their punches in the air while voicing their battle cries. Some of them, whose attention was elsewhere, were trying to climb onto Igor and patted the giant warg. Igor seemed calm. He must be used to this.

"Easy, boy," Azarel said, grinning at the boy while shoving him gently. He nodded towards Catriel and Gizelle, who had been watching the scene with mild interest. "This is my youngest cousin, Raoul," he said to the Junoans. Turning to the lively band, he cleared his throat to the gain their attention. "Kids, these two knights are the ones who drove the bad guys away. Show some gratitude."

Their big, admiring eyes quickly turned to the two. One of them shouted, "Whoa! They're real knights!" Some of them just stood silently and admired Gizelle's armor which shone under the warm sunlight.

"Miss," a girl whom the knightress guessed to be the youngest of them all by appearance, spoke in a soft voice, "are you a knight too?"

Catriel smiled. "I am."

The girl's large brown eyes studied Catriel's features closely, her eyes blinking in a rapid motion as they travelled up and down her figure. When her 'inspection' was done, she asked, "But why aren't you wearing a shining suit?"

"It's not a suit, Lyra!" one of the boys corrected her. "It's called armor!"

Lyra frowned, as if she was trying to memorize the new vocabulary. "Arm… Armer…?"

"Arm_o_r," corrected Catriel, chuckling.

"Yeah, Miss, why aren't you wearing one?" A brown haired boy asked. He pointed his small finger at Gizelle. "How come that guy is wearing one and you're not?"

The other kids, who were now nodding their little heads in unison, gathered around her. Some "yeah" and speculations on the matter were sparked in mere seconds. Azarel simply laughed at their guessing attempts. And when their voices finally ceased down, the Ranger gave a slight nod to Catriel who smiled back at him. She grasped what Azarel meant: _"Give them some show, would you?"_

"I don't wear armor when I'm not battling the bad guys," Catriel finally gave them the explanation they craved. "I _summon _my armor with rune magic when enemies come. Do you want to see me summoning it?"

The kids bounced on their heels, chorusing 'yeah' in glee. Catriel closed her eyes, her expression fading into the one she usually wore into battle. The kids backed away to give her some space and watched curiously in silence. In the next second, silver aura bloomed, emerging from her body and creating layers of silver mist. Soon after it emerged, it constructed a shape of a solid armor, chain to chain, metal hardening in each second passing, completing the form. Gasps and excited shouts were audible when the armor had finished shaping. Catriel opened her eyes again only to see the kids were now running towards her and circling her in amazement.

"Cool!"

"Not, that's it, kids." Azarel clapped his hands to regain the band's attention. "The lady and his companion ought to work to ensure that the bad guys are never to win. Why don't you back to your moms and help them prepare food for our heroes?"

Although reluctant, the kids obeyed and went to where Catriel first saw them. Just when they were about to go out of sight, Azarel called out Raoul's name. The boy turned around, face confused, and ran back to where Azarel stood. "Do you know who that kid is?" Azarel asked his cousin, his finger pointing at a certain small figure standing behind the woods. Catriel turned to the direction he was pointing at, and spotted a boy with a messy dark hair, sitting on a big rock, playing with his toy by himself. She speculated that the boy had been there the whole time, even before they'd arrived at the village. It was only that his presence was unknown to them since the shadows of the bamboos were blocking their sight.

Raoul frowned for a while before shaking his head. "He's a stranger who came to the village weeks ago. Mom said he was lost in the forest and was found by a patrolling hunter. Strange person. He wouldn't play with us when we asked him to. They say he's a survivor."

"From Alberta?" asked Azarel.

"From what I've heard, yes. They say that he spoke to nobody and he always plays alone. He's no fun," the kid added with a shrug of his small shoulders.

Azarel stole a glance at Catriel and gave her a meaningful look. "There are some survivors that had strayed off in the woods in these past three weeks. We occasionally spotted them—lucky ones they are," he explained to the knights. "Thank you, Raoul. You can go now."

The boy nodded and ran away, disappearing from sight as soon as he went down a forked route. "Before we continue, I must give you my sincerest apologies for all the trouble," Azarel said apologetically before bowing to Catriel.

She shook her head, a smile still tugged at her lips upon reminiscing how the children in Juno acted when high-ranked knights like her were present in public. "No, it's fine. I'm quite used to it. Being a knight isn't always swords and chivalry, after all."

Smiling, the Ranger lifted his head and continued to walk and climbed higher, leading the two towards a watch post. As she followed him, Catriel dismissed her silver armor back into thin layers of fog which faded as quickly as it had been summoned.

_Survivor, _she bitterly thought. Flames flashed through her mind, the scent of burnt woods filling her nostrils, chocking her throat. She swallowed hard. _No. _She clutched her dark-gloved fists tightly._ I won't let it happen again. I won't let another Catriel be made._

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

Irine Milicent was patrolling around the camp with spear in hand. The chilling air of desert night didn't prevent her from sweating under her heavy armor—it wasn't heat that caused it. It was her own fears of failing. Sitting on her mount, a Gryphone which stood almost ten feet tall, the Royal Guard was on high alert as her eyes darted from one side to another. Mounted Crusaders and Paladins were in their assault formation, shields held up while spears and swords clutched loosely on the other hand. Her Gryphone moved slowly, walking among the armored fighters. Its wings half opened and its eagle head was held high and proud.

Despite the majestic appearance was, Irine's mind couldn't be assured.

_Soon, _she thought grimly, _the desert would be rich with the color of blood. _

Yes, their plan to launch a surprise attack on the enemy was already set in motion. Monks, Crusaders, Knights, and Priests were already stationed in their posts, each commanded by their respective leaders. Irine's stomach lurched upon the thought of battle that was about to come. It had been years since her last battle against those shadow lurkers and she still had bitter recollections about what had happened. Well, she was still a Paladin back then, commanding some Crusaders and acting under the guidance of her lord commander who had retired by now. Every order had been coordinated, and most importantly, weighed upon someone else's shoulders.

But now, the responsibility of each order and casualty was hers.

Closing her eyes and repeatedly telling herself to calm down, she almost literally sent her mount flying when a familiar voice rang from above.

"Is everything ready?"

Irine quirked her head upwards to see her Junoan colleague arrive with his mount, a giant winged dragon whose wings were sending dust of sand with each stroke. She shielded her face from the impact of his landing, making sure that no strands of sand got into her mouth or her eyes. Irine gave a curt nod to Remus, her voice was stern when she spoke. "Your battalion will charge first while I will guard the side." She recalled what had been agreed on the previous meeting. "The Monks shall follow after us. Are _you _ready?"

"Ready to pull some action: yes. Ready to die: no-no."

Irine chuckled, amazed that Remus could still pull some jokes at a time like this. "I don't plan on dying either. Let's just stay alive and keep our men's heads on their shoulders, okay?"

"That's very pessimistic of you," Remus playfully mocked. "The champion lady and some Sorcerers are here to balance things out, you know. The Priests have already been stationed behind squad too. What could topple _us_?"

"I know who we're facing here," warned Irine with a grunt. "Don't take them lightly, Remus. Dealing with the Assassins is not a matter of numbers or fortune. They are sharp, tricky; a dangerous enemy. Believe me, you don't want to count how many tricks and poisons they've prepared under their sleeves."

"I know, I know. I'm just trying to relax, okay. It's not appropriate to tense your muscles before you break some bones."

Irine was about to object, but a mounted crusader came to them in a hurry. She noticed that he was one of the watching men in the post stationed miles from where they were now. "What news?" she asked, rising her tone so he could hear her from afar.

The Crusader's mount, a Grand Peco, stopped abruptly before them. "I bring bad news, My Lady. The guard posts had been assaulted by the enemy."

Remus and Irine jerked their head and shouted 'What?' in perfect unison it almost made the peco flinch. "When did it happen?" Remus asked.

"About forty minutes ago, Sir. We're still trying to hold them off but we are greatly outnumbered."

Some Crusaders and Paladins whispered in panic at the news. Irine and Remus exchanged a glance in horror and nodded. "They knew," Irine spat, her teeth gritted in anger. "Did they manage to spy at us? How did they get in so easily?"

"It doesn't matter! Now we move! They'll be swept away in no time if we linger!" Remus shouted, stomped his mount to gallop into the air.

Irine did the same while giving a signal for the Crusader to spread the news to the other battalions stationed across the region, and to her men: "Follow me! We shall back them up!"

Cries of battle resounded in the air, signaling others who were close enough to hear them on high alert. As her Gryphone opened its wings, Pecos were already running toward where Remus and his knights had been off to. Irine's heart was pounding loudly now, ready to blurt out. Gosh, how bad could this be? Their plans were ruined now. _Stolen_, to be precise.

"_What could topple us now,"_ she remembered Remus' playful question. And as soon as the cold air slap her face, the answer came clear as the stars. Why, of course, _any surprise attack would _always _topple an army._


	10. Shields and Fangs

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 9 -**

**Shields and Fangs**

* * *

Purple clouds that sprung from toxic spheres were almost invisible in the darkness of the night. Irine, riding her gryphone, was leading her battalion to aid the guards stationed in the border. Marching in her back were hundreds of crusaders and tens of paladins, each riding their own mounts, readying their shields and weapons against the shadow lurkers they knew were waiting for them just a mile away.

"Assault Formation!" Irine shouted from above. Quickly, the armored soldiers marched up in a formation that resembled a flying eagle, should it was to be observed from above. Becoming the head of the eagle herself, the Royal Guard readied her spear in her right hand.

Battle cries resounded in the air. The Assassins, who were still busy battling the losing guards in the front line were now moving quickly to counter the massive army that marched toward them. Their first line of assault quickly gathered up on the top of the fort and readied their throwing knives to halt the newcomers.

A Paladin, who was riding just below Irine's flying mount, shouted upon noticing their movements: "Incoming missiles!"

"Ready, men!" she shouted back, her tone firm and commanding. "On my count: Three… Two… One!"

It took only three seconds after the flying knives were thrown to reach the rushing army. But only one second was needed to deflect them. Reflect Shield skill was activated by the front liners, deflecting every single blow that was meant to stagger them. Shields brightened with green aura, defending the lines perfectly. Arrows and knives flung back and dropped to the sands as the heavy armored troopers activated their skill. Taken aback by the deflection, the enemy was preparing a retreat—in hopes of creating another formation to hold their assault, of course. Irine was ready for such a trick. She may be not a brilliant strategist like Catriel, but only an idiot would underestimate her precise and renowned battle tactics.

Rising her spear, she commanded her army to spread out with her spear's gesture. "Both wings, prepare to launch your shields!"

The wings halted their advance, moving quickly to form up another line of attack while the eagle's body continued to march forward. They readied their shields and aimed. As Each Lt. General shouted "Shield Boomerang" in order, the crusaders under their command began throwing their shields at the fleeing assassins. The first wave launched their shields, and then they were soon followed by the second wave, and third wave, and back to the first line again… Shrieks of pain and blood soon covered the already stained desert.

"Main body, spread out! Defensive Formation!"

AMore crusaders lined up in order, with their shields trampling, they were creating lines of solid defenses just some feet behind the battling squads. Irine flew above her men cautiously, analyzing the flow of battle from afar. Remus, on the other hand, was marching from the East, the exact opposite direction from where her army had marched minutes ago.

Knights and Lord Knights were bustling through the lines, each wing acting as snipers armed with spears. Soon, Remus himself rushed into battle, diving furiously from air to burn whoever was stupid enough on getting themselves in his line of Dragon's Breath. Bursting in his enhanced Aura Blade, the Rune Knight was like a blazing mystical creature flying in the air, bombarding his enemies with either his mount's fire breath or his own skills and runes. Irine remained still, watching how the battle quickly turned to their side while acting as a rear guard. Her task was simple: distract the enemy from afar, and guard the rear so no assassin would be able to break through the borderlines. Seeing the rapidly evolving battle, only the second task remained.

But it seemed that they weren't the only ones who were supplied with reinforcements.

Bands of Rogues and Stalkers appeared out of nowhere from the South. Irine couldn't sight their existence beforehand, so it could be assumed that they were using their Hiding and Chase Walk skills to cover themselves deep in the sands, using both the desert terrain and the engulfing darkness to their own advantage. Daggers, swords, and bows were what they equipped themselves with. Interesting, she thought, that they are using Rogues' multiple weapons of choice as a precaution—since arming them with bows and arrows obviously would prove to be quite a hindrance in battle for _her _side.

_Now_ she got no choice but to help Remus. It would be dangerous to leave the knights with no defense skills to hold their advance against an army equipped with long-ranged weapons. "Both wings, follow me to strengthen the defenses! The rest should guard this line at any cost!"

Cries of battle followed her command. The Crusaders and Knights who were stationed in the border were on full retreat now, leaving Remus' battalion on the front lines all by themselves. By the time Irine was on the battle field, rain of arrows was pouring down upon them. "Shields up, men!"

The Crusaders quickly rushed to the Knights' side to defend them against the incoming missiles while she rushed to her fellow comrade's side, activating both the Reflect Damage skill and Devotion onto Remus. Although some of them wasn't so lucky to have fled, more than half of Remus' men were still able to raise their weapons to fight another wave.

"Irine!" Remus shouted as she approached him in the air. "There are many more Rogues than we've feared! My men would stand against them, but the casualties would be also great if this fight keeps on like this!"

"I know. For now, just try focus on dealing with their missiles first! Order your men to shoot back with their Spear Boomerang while my Defenders act as your shields!"

Remus nodded grimly and gave the word for his men to launch their attack. But just as they were about to throw their spears, the Rogues and Stalkers vanished from the field, leaving no traces but dancing sands on where they stood. "They're hiding!" he hollered.

Knights and Crusaders were on high alert now, even Irine had her blood audibly pumping in her ears. Standing still, they readied their weapons and shields in order to steady themselves while waiting for the enemy to make their move.

_This is bad,_ she mused darkly. _They are surely moving around us to catch us unaware. Only a little number of our men have the skill to Sight them…_

True enough, some of the shadow lurkers had now successfully blend in their lines of defenses, catching the armored warriors off guard with their sudden appearances. The battle field couldn't be more chaotic now. Daggers and arrows flew wildly, while smoke bombs and toxic spheres exploded here and there. The bandits were smart, unfortunately, to Hide and attack continuously—confusing the Junoans who were only able to react to their assault were they to appear in their range of sight.

Remus, already joining the battle and flew in rounds above them, was furious. Irine watched the battle from above, trying to figure something out before their troops were massacred by some low tactic as was this. But before she could think of anything, a shout tore the air.

"Ready, guys? Two… One…!"

Sapphire lights were enshrouding both sides now. Ruwarch—a basic Acolyte's skill to sight hiding enemies, was blazing, lighting the desert with its holy light.

Irine quickly flew to face the incoming reinforcements. A familiar figure, a female Shura clothed in a Monk's jacket was leading an army of Monks and Champions, marching in the enshrouded light of her own Ruwarch and floating spirit spheres. Behind them was, much to Irine's delight, an army of Wizards and Sages led by a Sorcerer she previously met in the camp. They too were enshrouded in a blazing fire, the original Sight skill, to prevent those shadow lurkers from getting near them unnoticed. She hurried off to call her men to form the Defensive Formation once again, making sure there were spaces to let the incoming soldiers to slip through their lines and aid the Knights who were still busy combating the Assassins and Rogues close-handedly.

She tugged her Gryphone so it would lower its wings and fly towards the newly arrived battalion. Flying just ten feet above the marching soldiers, she said, "Much appreciated, there!"

The Shura quirked her head upwards and grinned. Her tanned skin shone under the light of her holy skill and spirit spheres. "Good job in holding them off yourself," she shouted in reply.

"I kindly suggest you to stand aside, Madame—"

A low pitched voice, emerged from a figure Irine didn't notice before it spoke. A male Sorcerer with a short silver hair, who floated mid-air just below her Gryphone, was now stretching his hands open and wide. A burst of energy was visible in a glowing color of reddish purple. "_If_ you don't want to be swept along with these worms," he added slowly as his smile turned into a dangerous smirk. A simple gesture Irine would take precaution of.

The Shura, which Irine recalled went by the name 'Isha' muttered an "Uh-oh" and quickly halted her advance. Following their commander, the Monks and Champs quickly took up their position in a halt. Irine watched with a sparked interest as the Sorcerer and his men chanted some ancient words to trigger their magic.

The Sages began to cast a huge magic circle that formed under their feet. A massive Land Protector which was meant to defend all the people inside it from spawning skills cast upon them. This, Irine realized, was a sign for any close-handed combatants in Remus' battalion to separate themselves from the enemy and to start running towards the forming circle. Why? Well, obviouysly, as soon as the circle was completed, the Sorcerer would activat his own magic—

—and a breeze of compressed wind hammered upon the enemy's lines. Following the massive and repeatedly cast Varetyr Spear, the Wizards and the High Wizards quickly followed with both Storm Gust and ground-based spells to crush the enemy without mercy.

"Unbelievable," Irine breathed before the scene. Magic and lights were flashing everywhere across the border, wreaking havoc on the enemy's side. Irine could swear that she saw almost half of the enemy troops were either killed or buried alive in the sinking sands because of the impact. But of course, every magic has its cost.

After storming the enemy with their rain of offensive spells, the spell casters soon backed off. They were both sweating and panting in search of fresh air. She saw the Sorcerer, who was still floating a moment ago, land on the ground, a bullet of sweat glistening down his neck. His face was exhausted but still focused on where the shadow lurkers were just a moment ago.

Every magic costs its user's stamina and energy, it seemed.

But, it didn't has to end at that.

Irine smiled to herself, feeling her blood pumping in passion and fury. The three commanders, Remus, Isha, and herself, cried the order to charge almost in unison it broke the cries of the losing bands. "Don't give them the opportunity to retreat!" Remus shouted, flying forward with his runic blade's end pointed out.

Before moving onward to join the assault, she gave an appreciative nod to the silver-haired Sorcerer. She noticed that his emerald eyes had turned to gray the soon he stopped his magic. "Nice job, Lord—err… What should I call you again?"

"Silva," the Sorcerer replied, grinning. "Just Silva is fine. It'd be quite a pleasure to have a brave lady such as you to remember my name."

Irine grinned back before ordering her Gryphone to fly lower, her troops were accompanying the Monks and Champions now. "Our turn, Lady Isha."

The tanned Shura nodded to her words and replied, "It's been a while since I punched fresh meat. And you can just call me Maiya."

"Will do. But first, let us crush the fleeing sand worms in front of us."

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

Both Feyonese and their allies had retired to their chambers when a bell's ringing sound resounded through the clearing area, signaling the time of the night.

It was precisely twelve o'clock now. Knights and Snipers could still be seen patrolling in and around the city and the village, but no other activities were seen. A boy, who was slender and fair-skinned by appearance, leaped out from an overlooking hill nearby the village. He was clothed in a fashion of a normal Feyonese boy: a matched loose shirt and short pants in the color of the leaves. Judging by his height alone, he shouldn't be older than twelve or thirteen. But it was precisely his age that had brought him many advantages grown-up spies couldn't get.

He moved again, crouching carefully this time. His dark hair was damp and unkept, and his sharp brown eyes were wary, darting from one side to the other. When he was sure he had melted perfectly with the shadows of the cliff and trees, he flung forward and ran to the woods in a speed that would even match that of a battle Warg's. His bare feet barely produced any sound as he sped up.

The half moon was his only source of light now, but that didn't keep him from running. He had been raised in the darkness, after all, lurking and blending to it as he learned how to survive in this cruel, tainted world. Darkness was his only friend; _had been _his only friend. His only partner that he could rely on. But more, it was both his mentor and mother.

A 'prodigy', people of his clan often called him. Some referred to him as 'the Blade.' Some called him by the name of their worshipped gods that bring about destruction. But all those names and titles were not what made him. It was the darkness that taught him to be what he was now.

The boy stopped running upon reaching a low cliff's end. Despite his exercise, no sweat was visible. His breath returned to normal as he sharpened his senses, still kneeling to one knee as he absorbed his surroundings. He opened his mouth slowly, just a bit; a trick of his clan to sharpen their hearing sense. He could hear some faint sounds now. Bats and some nocturnal animals' movements; dancing leaves swept by the cold breeze; and finally—an adult's low whisper. The sound was so low it could be mistaken for an animal's cry, but there was no mistaking it: it was his comrade announcing her presence.

Slowly, the boy stood up. He leapt forward and landed lightly on the other side of the cliff. The jump took him more than nine meters down the Archer Village, and this was where he was told to meet his comrade. Crouching once again behind the shadows of the bamboos, the boy whispered back in a slightly higher tone than the last he had heard: a simple tune, a signal.

As soon as he ended the note, a flying kunai was sent to where he was crouching still. He had stayed unmoving there for some seconds, knowing that a slightest movement would cause his own head to be stabbed by the sharp blade. Waiting for another sign to be given, the boy simply counted to ten.

Silence.

He was assured then that the message tangled on the kunai's grip was the only thing he needed. Pulling the kunai off a bamboo it had struck, he opened the paper attached to it. Two sentences were written there. One was his next order, while the second one hinted on a specific time that would be his chance to finish the newly given task. Memorizing every detail from the simple letter, he then ate and swallowed the paper, making sure that he left no evidence in case he were to fail his mission. He swallowed hard and lifted his head to face the moon that shone brightly in a starless sky. Pitiable. Not having a friend in the darkest of nights. Much like himself, he thought with a subtle smile.

Now he had five minutes to go back to his bed, using the guards' night shift timing to slip by without being noticed. And oh—how stupid of him to have forgotten!—he quickly re-counted and gave himself an additional one minute to climb the cliff beforehand. All right, now it was good and set.

Climbing and leaping in a speed of a trained spy, the boy quickly made his way to the upper ground. His face was showing no emotion although his mind was racing in thoughts. Finally, he let the overflowing emotion to seep through his placid mask; he smiled, wide and victorious. Why, of course, his mission would be far easier than he had thought it would be. He almost giggled when he remembered the head of his clan had reminded him to be cautious when he had been about to be sent to Feyon. But, now? All those wise words all sounded ridiculous.

His mission didn't seem to be as hard as the clan's headmaster had warned. In fact, it was only a regular assassination mission set on a specific time and date. For the gods' sake, it was even easier than a previous one where he was tasked to bring back a specific herb from an Edga's lair!

Moreover, this time, his target seemed to be a soft-hearted person. How could he be so sure, one might ask? Simple: he had seen his target playing some tricks to entertain some noisy children this morning, if it was proof enough. No sane knights would diver her attention in the middle of a brewing war. And beckoning her from afar, he had also studied how killing forced her to retire into her fragile shell of guilt and solitude. Ha! How low could she be—feeling guilt over someone else's life? Now he was supposed to kill such a weak person... What a joke! How could she dress in her armor if she wasn't even prepared to take people's lives?

He let out a small chuckle at the pathetic thought. How funny could this get... Really, he'd never understand why those commoners started to fight in the first place. But no matter, everything was soon coming to an end. Yes, if he could kill their head strategist, wouldn't every piece of their army fall like a strayed flock of baby birds losing their mother? And by the time it happened, _he _would be the one who receive all the praises. Yeah, why not? The clan's elders would be proud of him, and he could earn what they had promised him years ago—when he vowed to give his life for the clan's honor and name.

But, no. Not now. Those things could wait until the mission was completed. And it was going to be. Soon.

By tomorrow's twilight, he would have Catriel Lachelle's head.


	11. Trickery

A Ragnarok Fanfiction by Lushard.

* * *

**- Chapter 10 -**

**Trickery**

* * *

"Closed off?"

Upon the question, the Hunter whom Azarel had summoned several minutes ago nodded. Azarel the Ranger, Catriel, Gizelle and some soldiers were studying a map that was only available to the Hunter Guild—a map that contained full information of secret passages and underground entrances throughout the broad land of Midgard. As they needed a member of the Scouting Team to be present to update them with information, a hunter had been summoned to fill them in. But what the Hunter reported in was disturbing: the Scouting Team had found that one of the secret passages that connected the Archer Village and the Far East of the Forest had been closed off by boulders.

The Hunter waved his hand, sweeping at the direction of the West Gate of Feyon toward the thickness of their forest. "We were taking the usual route assigned to us last night. That was where we spotted that one of our secret passages was already sealed. We were able to move fast enough to examine the ruckus of rocks moving below our feet, followed by a muffled sound of explosion." He shifted his gaze to Catriel. "We found nobody down there. No traces or footprints, no hints whatsoever."

"What else did you find there?" Catriel asked.

"Ma'am. We found that the culprit was using some type of bomb to start the flame as there was a black spot like one you would find when something was being thrown to the ground and explode shortly after. We are still examining the explosion powder left in the dirt."

"Alright, that was quite an info," Azarel responded with a clap of his hands. "Thank you for reporting this to us. You are dismissed."

After the Hunter had left, Azarel turned to Catriel, a frown settling between his eyebrows. "I don't understand the culprit's intention," he said. "What use is there to seal _one _passage?"

"A tantrum," Catriel spoke slowly, so softly that Azarel barely heard it.

"Pardon?"

"A tantrum," she repeated, with a more stern and assured tone this time. "It was clearly a tantrum, or more like, a challenge." Just when Azarel was about to utter more questions, she quickly said: "The fact that the culprit, whom I thought to be on our enemy's side, closed off one of the secret passages that won't bring any good for his ranks clearly states that it is a challenge. And quite a bold one."

An elder of Feyon spoke up in a confused tone this time. "You mean that they've found some of our secret passages and they're informing us that they've seen us through? What use is there in being so cocky and brash?"

"I don't know," the Junoan admitted, shaking her head. "As I said, the enemy would gain nothing by informing us that they'd attack Feyon in the near future. But my theory is that they want to challenge us, scaring and confusing us."

There was silence for a moment before Azarel gave out a long sigh. "So their target is clear now. They plan on ambushing us. Ambitious, aren't they?"

Catriel gave a curt nod to Gizelle, and the Lord Knight quickly bowed and left the Map Room. "We will start evacuating the citizens, if you don't mind," she explained at the unspoken question from the staring eyes.

There were no protests nor questions. Catriel could only sympatiyze that these Feyonese must finally sacrifice their hometown to the raging war. After the evacuation, they knew that they would only have two options: to surrender Feyon to the enemy and flee along with the citizens, or fight back to defend the city. Catriel was not stupid enough to guess that they'd choose the first option. No; no when she had already seen how deep was their love for their home and forest. The people here were fond of the nature around them, and that much was quite clear from the way they nurtured their surroundings.

But this was a war. A war never went without any casualties. The elders of Feyon knew that.

It was quite a pity that a place so calm and peaceful like Feyon would burn and become a battlefield. To be truthful, she had grown to like the place. It reminded her of her childhood days. Everyone in this place was so warm and accepting, so peace-loving and nature-perserving. The culture and traditions were being kept in a much respecting and loving way. And most of all, they really knew and regarded souls with more than respect. Catriel had never been found a place so quiet and warm like Feyon.

She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, dismissing the image of a quiet Feyon.

Soon, all of it would vanish, leaving only traces of blood and fire.

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

The evacuation didn't take very long. The allied forces were already preparing to retreat through some underground pathways and secret passages scattered in the woods, just like what the intel had taught him. The boy, who was also in the midst of a group of citizens, walked rather slowly while analyzing how the knights and hunters there move to escort them to a designated safe area. It was almost nightfall when his group had been ordered to evacuate. The gentle breeze which he often considered refreshing had been contaminated with fear and anxiety that were even sensible in the cold air. Every face he met was troubled, and there was this grim silence across the forest that reminded him of his past experience before the battle of Amatsu took place.

But never mind that; these people would either die or live in a futureless world anyway. War, as far as he knew, would always end like that. More importantly, he had his objectives. The simple order that had given to him yesterday was all that he was thinking of. His extraordinary skills of sensing and moving in a stealthy fashion were soon to be put into action. No one had ever spotted him, and he was more than convinced that even the lady knight wouldn't be able to sense his movements. The 'chance' meeting at the Archer Village had proven that.

Now, where was she? Were was his target? If his calculations were right, she should be around the entrance of the last passage, busy monitoring the evacuation and also preparing for the upcoming battle as any good commander would do.

"Is this the last group?"

Bingo. It _was _definitely _her _voice his sensitive ears just caught from a band of knights gathering at the forest entrance just now. With so many backs obscuring his vision he wasn't able to spot her, but knowing that she was not too far away from where he stood was more than enough.

The boy turned slowly to have a better look, maintaining his expression blank and his walking pace in tune with those around him. Five knights and two hunters were standing at the entrance, their backs were backing his view of the Rune Knightress' slender figure. The boy quickly thought of possibilities and the chances he would have: wait for them to disperse first seemed to be the option. No matter how fast and sharp he was, dealing with some hunters and knights were a bit time consuming, not to mention that it held too many risks. His order was to eliminate their commander and quickly run back to the forest to give a signal from there. Simple. Yet one mistake would ruin everything. That much he knew.

What he had thought to be the best option proved not to be even a comparison to what happened in the next second: a sound of explosion resounded through the area, just when the knights and hunters were about to move. Before anyone could react, another explosion was audible, followed by some shouts and cries of battle from the defense squad who seemed to be the target of the bombs.

"Incoming attack!" a knight shouted.

Chaos almost broke loose when escorted citizens went panic; children were shouting and the adults were trying desperately to push whoever in front of them to move faster to the entrance.

"Prepare to engage, defensive formation!" he could hear his target's command in the midst of panicked voices.

Knights and hunters were on high alert now, running to take up a defensive formation, circling the citizens with their bows and swords drawn.

A faint smile bloomed on the boys' lips. It must be them. It must be his clan members' doing. Well, knowing that the Ninja Clan was on the move never gave him more satisfaction; his task would be much easier with their distraction. After all, a stab in the back is always easier to perform in a chaotic situation, no?

* * *

- x - V - x -

* * *

"Where does it come from?" Catriel, who was half-running towards the rear while summoning her runic armor, asked the knights who were accompanying her.

"From the South, My Lady!" one of them answered.

She made a stop and turned to her men. "You guys go and alert the other squads—the hunters are on the move to investigate. The safety of the citizens is our priority. You three," she turned to the knights closest to her, "follow me and cover my back. We'll go to defend the rear and make sure to halt whoever's coming this way."

Some citizens, who were being coordinated by the knights were still on the area. Catriel gave a mental note that there should be some left near the city's entrance, left thinly unguarded no less. Catriel bit down an angry snarl. This was truly not good... How could they be caught up in such a surprise attack? She had made sure that the knights and hunters were on their assigned position; no enemy should be able to enter the border of Feyon without being noticed.

Calculations aside, she had only one priority for now. The sun had already set, and in the darkness, their chances on repelling the enemy was lower since it was their cover. They lurked in the shadows, and surprise attack was their speciality—being able to rescue the citizens alone would be a miracle, she didn't dare to hope that they'd get an easy win in a dire situation such as this.

Before they could manage to reach the rear, however, an explosion occurred just two feet away from the group. Catriel jumped back while drawing out her dual runic swords while the knights entered their battle stance. "On your left!" she shouted to her men.

It was a second too late. The second explosion hit one of the knights in the body, tearing his armored flesh like burnt meat. Screams and shocked gasps of the citizens were audible, creating more chaos in the already uncontrollable situation. Blood was spilling everywhere now, tainting the dark soil with color of rich red. Catriel looked around, trying to detect the attacker's position through her enhanced senses.

In a bare second, she slashed one of her runic blades upward, Aura Blade expanding its reach. Got him. She felt the tip of her blade hitting something, _somebody_. As predicted, a body soon fell down, a male dressed in dark suit whose left shoulder was wounded severely by the knightress' attack.

"A shinobi?" one of the knights gasped.

The male shinobi, clothed in a traditional ninja uniform, quickly threw a kunai towards Catriel in hope to distract her and make a run for his life. But she saw that through and jumped at the shinobi, her blade parrying the thrown weapon, eyes fixed on the desperate target. Blood was poured when her other blade met the ninja's scarfed neck. An eerie strangled scream was audible, and he collapsed thereafter. The knightress quickly turned her attention at the woods behind them, her sense absorbing tiny bits of movements and hushed voices from the density of the forest.

There were more of them. A dozen or two, perhaps.

Although smokes and fire were limiting her sight, she tried to grasp any sharp movements that was not possibly produced by panicking citizens or patrolling knights and hunters. Those shadows are quick and stealthy, she knew, but they had one weakness: their stealthy moves were never done without a supply from their energy system. In order to minimize the sound they made while moving, they usually used a little amount of their life energy to be converted into a thin layer of aura around their feet and hands—thus, making them not so 'invisible' as they thought they were. Sure, the aura could not be seen by naked eyes, but to someone whose aura control had surpassed limitations like Catriel, it was still _sensible_.

"My Lady, the evacuation is halted due to an attack on the front lines," a knight reported in.

Catriel tore her gaze away from the forest. "All right, I'll go and see what I can do there. Please dispatch more knights to guard here and ask the hunters for help. If the rear is assaulted, then there will be more chaos among the us." She threw one last glance at the forest before adding, "I sensed more of them in the woods. Be on guard, and alert the hunters about their presence. It is safest to lay traps around the woods if you could help it."

The knight nodded and quickly did as Catriel had ordered while the knightress herself rushed to the front line by dashing in her enhanced mobility. By using her raw, runic energy, of course. It was not a highly advisable way of moving since it drew out her strength greatly, but it was not like she had other choices at hand. A second could decide a villager's fate. She would not waste it.

After passing some towers, she found herself standing before a gate that would lead to the western forest. Most of the citizens there had been evacuated, leaving only bands of people behind with some knights and hunters circling around them. She was about to ask for some details from a knight when a presence alerted her. She whirled around to find a boy standing behind a tree not far from where she stood. A lost child, maybe. Catriel walked towards him, her blades dispersing into auric mist before fading away.

"Why are you not with the others?" she asked as she neared the boy.

The boy turned slowly to meet Catriel's gaze. He had the complexion of an Izludese, but his dark hair indicated that he had a mixture of blood with the Southerners. The boy's face was looking a bit pale, and his eyes were dark and confused, his mouth a thin line.

At his silence, she softened her gaze and summoned a reassuring smile. "Let's go and evacuate with the others. It is dangerous here," Catriel said while offering one hand.

He took it reluctantly and whispered the word, "Mother," in a low, soft voice. Catriel nodded.

"We will find her. But for now, you have to stay alive. Let's go."

Catriel turned back and was about to walk to where the last group of citizens were waiting in lines when she felt a cold sensation on the back of his body. A sting, was more accurate. Her body heat rose in response, indicating that there was a deadly poison imbued with the blade.

Slowly turning around, she found no trace of the boy. He had disappeared into the woods. Two seconds were all the time she had before her consciousness started falling into a bottomless darkness.


	12. Hesitation

**10. Hesitation**

* * *

"Stop spacing out, Remus! We're still not done yet, you know."

Remus looked up to his Junoan companion who was flying just a bit higher than his mount. He shielded his eyes from the sun's piercing ray of light and answered back, shouting. "How much farther it is, Irine? I can't see anything from here."

"Based on my calculation, it should just be five more minutes before we arrive there. I can already see the ruins."

The two Junoans and two third of the Allied Army were advancing South. After their victory over the enemy's sudden attack—which halted their plan by two days to launch an invasion towards the border—they had moved quickly to gain the momentum and use it to strike back as soon as the assassins and rouges began their retreat. Some of the commanders were not in a good mood since it was their own plan that was back-fired upon them, but a few cold-headed persons stood up amidst of their blunder and confusion to raise their voice: if there was ever be chance to strike, it was definitely now, when their ground had not yet been recovered from their total defeat.

It was quite boastful and arrogant, Remus thought, to launch such an attack over their great numbers. Remus could only thought of one thing that those sand worms would had tried on them: a quick attack to break their lines. But even so, something was amiss. Even with their numbers, they should had known that they were no match to the Allied Army, eventhough they had the momentum of playing in their own field. The reinforcements had arrived in time, and it was the only thing that put the shadow lurkers' battle tactic and strategy on hold.

After some minutes of flying, the two halted their flight and lowered their mounts, flying low with just some feet from their subordinates' heads.

"We have won a great victory," he said, much to himself. "But the border is not yet ours."

"I'm not sure it's the right time to complain," said a female Rune Knight who was advancing some feet below the Junoans. She was one of Pronteran commanders that were sent to reclaim Sograt. Her blonde hair, which was covered by a bone hat, was glistening in the sun. She made a gesture to halt her knights' advance. The Junoans quickly mimicked her action and landed. "Look, there," she pointed with her sword. "What did you see?"

Remus followed the trail of her blade's tip. They had arrived at what seemingly to be an entrance to the ruins of Sograt. Broken and sunken pillars were scattered throughout the area. A tall building stood deeper into the ruins, one he recognized as the home for those shadow lurkers. Remus' sense didn't inform him of anyone's presence, though. "Whether it's a trap or a sign of victory," he finally said.

"I agree. It's too silent," Irine put in. "No welcoming party. No sight of assassins or rogues trying to defend their base. Nothing."

"See beyond," the female Rune Knight insisted.

The two Junoans exchanged glance. "What're you implying, lady—"

"Vega," said the knight. "Don't bother with how I got that nickname and answer my question: What did you see?"

Remus was about to interject when Irine spoke up, "A completely deserted area, if you ask me, but surely you know more than that. It may be a trap, and we should think of nothing less."

"And we're sure that those rebels retreated this way," said she, her expression unchanging.

"Pretty much so. But then—" Irine interrupted herself and sighed. Realization hit her late. "I get it now. This is not merely a trap. It's a part of their plan to divide our army."

"And that's not all of it. Look at those pillars," she pointed out while dismounting from her Ferus. The short haired Rune Knight touched the pillar and it dissapeared right away. "It's a mirage," she stated blankly. "We _are _trapped."

"But how?" blurted out Remus, shocked by the probability that everything he saw now was nothing more than mere illusion. "They couldn't possibly create all of these visions in just some minutes while retreating!"

"No, it's not them," said Irine, her hand moving to her chin. "It's most likely that another party has been waiting here, in their very escape route, to set up the mirage in order to cover the attacking party's retreat." A bitter laugh came from her. "Clever, aren't they... It seems that our enemy has a fine strategist leading them. It is at a time like these I really wish Catriel is with us. She would have been able to see this through."

Before they could continue to talk further, some figures came out of nowhere atop a nearby pillar. The three jerked their heads up and instinctively drew their weapons. Their subordinates did the same. But since the sun was in their line of sight, none could see them better until one of them leapt unto a nearer pillar.

A hooded figure, cloaked in a dark manteau stood silently just a few feet to where they stood. Slowly as possible, the cloaked unknown raised both of its hands. "I bear no weapons with me," a deep, masculine voice carried into the wind.

"What kind of trickery is this?" Remus spat while activating his Aura Blade skill.

Again, the figure spoke, "I mean you no harm, fair soldiers of Midgard. I don't wish to fight you. It is actually the exact opposite."

Remus bolted his dragon towards the figure, his Dragon Breath was ready to be activated. But before he managed to even fly, Irine and Vega raised their weapons to stop him. "What are you guys—"

"Wait," said Irine sharply without looking at him. She lowered her voice in order to ensure that the figure and his followers couldn't hear her. "Think, Remus: if he wanted to assault us while we were not on alert, he would have done so already. Let's listen to what he has to say, first. And even if he's indeed means harm, than our number is still far greater than his few men."

Remus lowered his weapon reluctantly and finally nodded. Their action, it seemed, was interpreted as a sign of willingness to hear the figure's plea, for he stepped down from the pillar and landed smoothly on the ground.

"I wish to provide you all some assistance," he said while walking slowly to the three. "The only way to break this spell is by undoing the magic behind it. No one but a master at sorcery or a Guillotine Cross can do it. You'll need our help."

"And do we have a reason to trust you?" Vega asked, her weapon's edge pointed against him.

"Maybe not yet," he admitted. "But here I am, standing in your line of assault without any weapons drawned. And I'm sure you all know already that if you should call some reinforcement to break this spell, it'll all be too late to catch up with the fleeing rebels."

Remus shifted uncomfortably on his mount. There was... something about this man that chilled him out. His stature and tone were calm and composed, as if they were not even exposed to a war at all. And his aura told him of someone who was used to move without a sound in the shadows, someone who was expert of the art of assassination and stealth.

Irine grunted. "Well, that's very cocky of you, offering a help in such a manner. Now, tell us of reasons why we should _trust _you rather than merely using your _help_. I can tell that you're not some normal assassin. You're a Guillotine Cross, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am," he said simply. Pulling off his cloak's hood, the figure turned out to be a man od no older than thirty. He had this complexion of a Southern people: light tanned skin and sharp black eyes. His red hair was cot short with one side was being longer than the other, almost hiding his left eye completely. "I go by the name Azure in our ranks, and you can call me so if you wish. As for the reason of my 'defection', it is rather too simple to be explained. I stand in the same ground of beliefs as you all are. Nothing can be gained from rebelling, and I'm sick of my men's blood running over my own chamber just because of this foolish game. That is all."

"And should we believe you with just that?" asked Irine, her tone suspicious.

"Action speaks better than words." He then snapped his fingers once, and in a mere second, bands of cloaked assassins were standing behing him. Dust and sands sprinkled everywhere because of their sudden movement, causing the knights and crusaders to raised their weapons and shields in order to maintain their battle stance. And with another snap, they all bowed to one knee. "Our service is yours," said Azure. "But we will only assist you in one condition."

"Speak," ordered Vega.

A smile came upon his lips, a gesture Remus had a hard time to interpret of its meaning. "Bring me to Catriel Lachelle."

* * *

Ephron walked hastily, making his way through some knights and priests who were busy tending to the wounded. He had arrived just a bit too late in Prontera, only to heard that the Feyonese and their allies had been pushed back north with minimum casualties. It was, he thought, very brave and chivalrious of those Feyonese to abandon their home in order to avoid greater massacre. He had heard some news about their evacuation. Report had stated that the Allied Army had been attacked by bands of shinobi, rogues and assassins in mid-evac, and that their secret routes were all but exposed to their enemies. He had expected something more terribel than this when he'd heard it for the first time. But it turned out that only a small number of shinobi were able to successfully ambush the evacuating troops and citizens since the Feyonese had prepared their traps on board.

How had they managed to prepare such traps to counter the enemies' ambush was unknown to him, though. Had they calculated the worst possibilites and set traps in their own escape routes? Or rather, was Catriel's mind taking them to take such precaution?

And yes, there was Catriel.

He was in Midgard for the Junoan Order, yes, but he was specifically in the Prontera Field looking for her. And for the war.

"Commandant," said a knight who was beckoning him closely, "the tent is that way." He pointed out to a rather small tent, which Ephron suspected had been built for Catriel personally since she was the acting Ambassador for Junoan Army in the last battle. He turned to the gray tent and was greeted with a pair of guarding knights.

"Greetings, sire," one of them gave a salute, Pronteran Order style. "The Lady has not yet awaken, and Lord Knight Gizelle is inside."

Ephron gave a curt nod. He signaled his subordinate to come with him and entered the tent.

The room inside was neat and well-arranged eventhough it was only a temporary abode before she was being sent to the capital of Midgard. Catriel was laying motionlessly on her bed, her wounds had been tended, and her attire was of a plain white garment. Her already pale skin was now almost white now, and an untrained eye would easily mistake her for a corpse should she be laying on a battlefield. Gizelle, who had been sitting on a chair beside her, got up immediately when he recognized his superrior officer. Three Junoan knights who were also there gave a salute.

"Sir," he greeted while bowing.

Ephron walked slowly to where he stood and threw his glance at Catriel, his expression unreadable. "How is she?"

"Lady Catriel had been unconscious eversince she was found wounded near the evacuation site," said the brown haired Lord Knight. "which was four days ago. An Arch Bishop and some High Priests are regulary attending her, and although her physical wounds are healing slowly, she had not shown any improvements other than that. I'm afraid it is the poison that's slowing her recovery process."

"Poison..." Ephron trailed off. A list of some possibilities of what might be in the posion ran through his mind. But he could not recall any ingredients what would knock someone unconscious for days without another side effect. "Excuse me," he said to the Lord Knight dismissively, "I was lost on my mind. Tell me of your name, please, young knight."

"It's Gizelle, sir. Gizelle Skyler."

"And your age?"

"Twenty one, sir."

"Skyler, then," he turned to meet his subordinate's amber eyes. "Tell me, what makes you participate in this war?"

If Gizelle looked surprised, he hid it well for none of his features showed it. "I am a knight. I fight for my idealism towards peace which bounds me to the code of chivalry. That is all I can do to protect my home and those who are dear to me."

"I see. Then, do you believe that we can win this war?"

"I... I do want to believe so, but I dare not to be optimistic. I fight only the battle that is portioned to me, and if winning makes everything better, I shall strive to win."

Ephron nodded. "Good. Such is the value of being a knight—optimism will make you unable to think rationally, but being pessimistic doesn't help you in battle either. Only fight the battle that you _know_ you can take an advantage of." He then waved a hand to the knight who had been following him, and the man left, only to emerged with a medium wooden wooden box which was draped in rich purple linen. "This," Ephron said as he took the item and opened it, "_is _the true reason why I'm here."

This time, Gizelle's eyes widened as he saw what was inside. A familiar robe in a color of dark purple and silver streaks, along with a silver ring and a red stone on the top of the folded clothes.

"From today, _you _shall be the acting ambassador in order to win this war. And in order to hold the rank, you're now promoted to be a Rune Knight."

"But, I—"

"If your ideals are of what you've just said, then we know we can put our hopes in you," the older knight cut in. "Knights come and go, whether by blades or by trials. But in the world we currently live in, only those who are capable of staying true to his ideals and righteousness will stand unshaken. Come, receive the Lord's blessing upon the new authority and responsibility He has entrusted you with. You shall spare me the curt and humble method since time is not very kind upon humanity these days," he added while giving away a bitter smile.

Gizelle, who appeard to be still shocked, quickly recovered and heeded to his superrior's orders and bowed to his knee. Ephron took a bottle of holy water which was still sealed, and opened it. He then poured out the crystal water on Gizelle's head and said, "Your body is made of flesh, yet your heart is made of steel and will be refined through fire. Your sword is made of steel, yet its blade is made of will and faith. You live in dark times, yet you will emerge as the one who bears our Maker's light through your life. You are a human bound to the law of death, yet must your life points out to the liberation of our carnal mind and self. Now, rise a _Rune_ Knight."

As he rose slowly to his feet, every knight other than Ephron in the tent bent on one knee.

"Put your old armor off."

He did as he was told. Ephron held out a Rune Knight's robe from its container and helped him putting it on. Actually, it was a duty of a supervisor and a member of Senate during this kind of ceremony, but since situation demanded, it couldn't be helped: he had to do eberything by his own. After Gizelle had put on the robe, Ephron asked for his left hand and slipped the silver ring of rune carvings on his middle finger. "The ring shall be one with you until your death," he informed, almost all too hastily since he could already heard a bustling sound of knights on duty outside—a reminder of their situation. "What do you feel of it?"

"Cold. Yet, it feels like it's glowing, as if it is radiating the coldness itself."

"Every sensation a Rune Knight feels upon their baptize is different. It symbolizes your character, and also it will determine your runic abilities and stregth." Ephron hesitated for a moment, but then said with still the same placid expression, "Upon Catriel's baptize, she stated that she felt the ring as a 'stinging piece of ice' on her finger... And you've seen how she battles and masters the rune far above us. I'll be eager to see how you develop yourself and your sword . Now, your armor. Put it on."

Gizelle should knew that Rune Knights always summon their armor and weapons out of nowhere with rune magic, but it seemed that he had no idea on how they first donned it on their baptize since his eyes were searching the empty containter. Ephron smiled. He too had behaved like that upon his own rise in rank. "You have no need to search for it," he said, much to his own delight and amusement. "You've seen that there's no armor in here. You have to _create_ it."

"Pardon?"

"Create it, Skyler. Create it. With the rune now flowing freely inside you, you must have felt the strange waves of... 'cold' energy already, as you put it. All we you have to do now is _visualize _that energy into physical form and materialize it with your will. Try."

He closed his eyes and suddenly, his breath became much slower and controlled. His whole stature relaxed a second after. _Interesting_, Ephron thought to himself. There had been a very few Rune Knights who were capable of creating runic armor and weapon right after their baptize. Even up there in Juno, new Rune Knights were usually given a whole week to meditate and read ancient scriptures about runes and the flow of energy. But the lack of time and the pressure of war were not the best of friends, so they had skipped all those formalities and neccessities, which Ephron had hoped that would give birth to another prodigy.

As soon of thin silver layer of aura bloomed from Gizelle's skin, Ephron knew that his hopes had been answered. Two years with Catriel seemed to had instilled knowledge, calm nature and a broad sense of rune mastery to the young knight.

* * *

**A/N :** _Yup, I know it's messily written, but please don't kill me... *sobs* __Ahem. The good news is: your characters are coming up in this fic! So please wait patiently upon their debut._

_Please do Review if you're interested... :D_


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